Sunday, 8 August 2010


Stopped by a barred child gate
On the way to the kitchen,
Where, after entering,
I trip on kids’ things
And slip to the linoleum floor,
And am spotted by him on all fours,
Who trots towards me
Like a buffalo with clipped wings,
Snorting heavily
With the ripped stuffing
Of a Teddy bear dripping
From his fingers and laughing
At my impending captivity.

Once he’s cornered me against
The refrigerator I’m done for,
So I make to break for the back door,
But he cuts me off,
And scores a direct hit
In my midriff with his head,
Whereby I collapse on my back
And he has me,
And clambered and climbed
He plants a smile shaped kiss
On my lips and an imaginary
Flag of ownership on my forehead
To say that I’m his from now on.

1 comment:

  1. Ha! Ian, well done. I had a fun time reading. Thank you.