CHIP SHOP
FIRE
A wall of
searing flame
Roared
through the “Happy Plaice”,
The saveloys
were turned to ash,
The pasties
brightly blazed.
What should
be crisp and golden
Was charred
and burned to black.
Fire almost
cooked the owner,
Just like
the doner kebab,
which had
sat behind the window,
for just as
long as he had;
but he
escaped the inferno,
he ran
across the road
to stare in
consternation,
as his
life’s worked combusted,
in a sudden
conflagration.
His tears
were salt and vinegar
And he
cursed the firey fate,
that burned his rock and cod,
and
overcooked his skate.
Streams of
water from firehoses,
Could not
assuage his pain,
but he
bottled up his grief like tomato sauce,
and vowed
he’d fry again.
No comments:
Post a Comment