Lament of the Cheerio

 

 

 

Watch me drop on the

floor.




Go on, carry on just sitting

there – looking at me.

 

I suppose you’ll tread on me

 

later and not even notice

 

my saturated remains being subjected to further torture when squished

 

into the carpet by your husband’s heel.

 

 

I’m covered in dribbles of saliva.

 

Your daughter spat me … out.

 

Discarded me.

 

Said I was soggy with old milk.

 

Nothing I can do

 

about the deafening

 

CRUNCH

 

as she snaps up a fresher fancy.

 

 

Don’t waste your time

 

Analysing the ‘contents’ on my … throwaway home.

 

Go on.

 

Stick it in the blue bin.

 

 

You don’t care about me.

 

You said ‘Cheerio’ to my mates and sucked them up your enormous vacuum cleaner and left me

 

here

 

no longer sodden

 

but disparate

 

dried up

 

in p i e  c    e          s.
 
Copyright owned by Jay Cool



Source: Image of ‘Cheerio on a Journey’ is available as a Creative Commons image licensed for reuse, by the photographer Sam Bald.

 

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