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The Decapitation Of An Ovum
By Seamus Heany.
                
CRASH! BANG! WALLOP!
Using my spoon as a blunt instrument
I bash in the top of my boiled egg
Causing many hair line fractures and indeed- severe trauma.
                
SLASH!, RIP!, RENDER!
I use the keen edge of my chrome snug spoon
To decapitate,  the man in the street might well say,-behead
The defenceless ovum, who is held capitive in the egg cup like Humpty-Dumpty.
          
I think back to my childhood days
When I first, with the cry of the snipe in the background
Beheld the strange,mellow, yellow beauty of a boiled egg.
                   
My toasted soldiers are lined up on parade.
"By the left!" I roar in a rich, poetic baritone voice.
Wasting no time I ram....
No, ram is the wrong word
Ram is a word for labouring men and churls
DIP! Yes!,  I delicately dip a soldier into the boiled ovum
And ferry the delicious, yellow and white nourishment
To my waiting mouth, already agape with famine like hunger.
                
And all the while the cry
The cry of the bogland snipe
No matter where I go, I am followed by the cry
The cry of the swooping, lonely bogland snipe.
             
Ah, THE SNIPE!  THE SNIPE!
Your cry is with me by day and haunts my dreams at night.
CRYING, CRYING, EVER CRYING!
I can not escape the shrill, lonesone cry of the bogland-SNIPE!
SNIPE!  Why have you taken such a fancy to me?
Are you trying to communicate in some, strange snipe language?
Are you my Muse taking on bird-like form?
                 
It is not written in any ancient writings
Who the first man was to eat an egg.
But who every he was, my friends
He was indeed, a brave man.
            
CRIPES!
I can not concentrate.
Why does the bogland snipe keep crying?
Will no one rid me of this troublesome snipe?
I must away.
To sprang over boggy ground, meeting all obstructions with a poetic jump and an artistic leap.
The cry of the snipe renders my very soul.
Will I ever be free from the cry of....
THE SNIPE, THE SNIPE, THE BOGLAND-SNIPE?
Hands to my ears, in a sheltered gripe
I am driven mad by the crying-SNIPE!.
             
Gerry, would old Jordie have any ideas on how a poetic man could get rid of a snipe? I have tried Jeyes Fluid but to no avail.   SH.....
 
HARK! Do you not hear?
'Tis the snipe!
The bogland snipe.
Crying, crying, ever crying.
'Tis the-snipe, I tell you
'TIS THE SNIPE, THE SNIPE, THE SNIPE, THE SNIPE. AAAAAG!
CRASH!, BANG!, WALLOP!

28/09/09

 

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