Aunties Creases Poem by steve stirk

Auntie ironed creases
On all the clothing pieces
So that her kids and husband wouldn't carp
She wouldn't by devices
Used trousers to cut slices
With creases that were far to bloody sharp

Auntie sliced the veggies
Then cut spuds into wedgies
And buttered 'hovis' slices for us teas
Then took her husbands trousers
To point some local houses
And chop herself some fire-wood from trees

Auntie's now in prison
They came to a decision
That Auntie's ironing caused a lot of harm
Her husband lost his footing
His trousers sharp and cutting
Had accidently severed his left arm