CHICKEN AL FRESCO.

I should have realised that there was something quite amiss
When the smoke alarm started singing and my lover blew a
Kiss,
That sailed right passed my ear and hit the facing shelf of
Books
Where bewildered authors all stood up and sent me sorry looks.

You see my bay was in the kitchen, for the first time in a
Month,
Trying to get to grips with anything not on the run;
I asked her quite politely if she needed any help at all,
And she said if would be great if I could ask the fire brigade
To call.

It appeared she’d burned the substance that was trapped inside
The cooker,
And upon attempting to release it the damned thing tried to
Fuck her,
So she slammed it on the table as she tried to catch her breath,
But it combusted upon impact and she thought it for the best,

To heave it out the window where the air was pressurising
From the nightly storm approaching from beyond the lost
Horizon;
It lit the night within a minute, and inferno laughed aloud,
And spread quite rapidly amongst the quickly gathering crowd.

So we called the fire people, and switched of the smoke alarm,
And went out and roasted chicken over our English lawn.