Poetry

The Cliche Eaters

I

Good things come to those who wait

on rich tables, wrapping leftovers

in crumpled napkins,

lapping up spilt milk,

and biting the hand that tips

water into the wine.

II

She takes the prize. The prize

is a cake and she takes it.

No meek bread-eater she,

having her cake

and eating it too. Right there,

in front of the hungry.

III

Justice is best served as a dessert

and so he eats his just deserts

straight out of the frying pan,

scarcely noticing his scorching lips

and tongue, already savouring

another dish, best served cold.

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