Her little boxes with stuff seemed of low value to me Paraphernalia hoarded with care making her happy Treasure containing personal items of haberdashery Collection of thimbles which held her fingers cut free Having sewn neither a stitch nor a seam in her time Experimental cooking could have easily led to crime Could never have distinguished a lemon from a lime Kept a poor status quo never saving one single dime Her cases with the silver spoons hanging on our wall For a long time these cases did not bother me at all Until the day I made one of them take a long free fall The children’s protection I should have given a call Sitting there in that same chair spooning up eggnog Not lifting her fat arse but only commanding her flock We were her dumb sheep and workers in large stock No hugs or apparent love making our lives all to cock Henk Prijs, 2013
Posted on: Fri, 04 Oct 2013 13:35:21 +0000
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