Down first for breakfast
in the neat and nic-nac tidy
diningroom I am left to my devices.
I pick up cold steel talons
and tear into the heart of Egg
which bleeds over strips of dead
pig marinated in brine.
Grey shabby Mushrooms squeal
as they are hacked to death
slithering in their own sweat.
Like policemen to a motorway accident,
Toast arrives. The debris is mopped up.
Nothing remains of the slaughter.
John comes in with Judy.
‘Mornin’
‘Mornin’
‘Up early then?’
‘Aye’
Life goes on.