designdebris

POETRY
I think a lot, I can't help it. You'll find out soon enough.
(normally when doing something mundane)

Henry & Me

I'm writing this now whilst sat on the loo,
I've a red Hoover called Henry and removed my shoes,
I won't starve because I've got packet sandwiches too,
on a toilet roll table, within reach and in view.

Barricaded in and holding me hostage,
silent in breath, nothing said, not a sausage.
Security outside, threatens to call the police,
the other nibbles cake and offers a piece.

I'm on a secret strawberry Mullerice mission,
for lunchtime supplies with all guns blazing.
Risking life and limb, running and skidding.
How old ladies stay upright is forever amazing.

Abort, abort, I'm in terrible trouble,
the trolley I'm sat in has started to wobble.
How did I become this supermarket fugitive,
on 3 and a half wheels, like an office clown eeejid.

But I'm still on the loo, and I'm ahead of myself,
there's a chance I'll be stopped, chased, or worse, just left
of my own accord, ignored when I'm anxious
to make a scene, a commotion, ram-raid, or ambush.

Off with the mobile and fingers on temples,
if I press really hard, I'm sure I can go mental
and pop out a nugget, a gem if you like,
an idea to break free and go find Mullerice.

Upon looking up, can I squeeze through the ceiling?
the air vent specifically, looks very appealing.
But what about Henry? he's gotta come too,
I'm not leaving him here, with my sarnies and shoes.

In the blink of an eye, everythings changed,
the alarm has gone off and its started to rain,
caused from the butt of a security smoker,
"right, everyone out, I've had enough of this joker"

And there is it, I'm alone and free to go wander,
wet socks in the store, under false alarm thunder.
Disconnecting at times, due to a wobbly socket,
its just me dragging Henry, nozzle tucked in my pocket.