Someone Pass The Ketchup Poem by Mark Heathcote

Mark Heathcote

Mark Heathcote

Manchester
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Mark Heathcote
Manchester
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Someone Pass The Ketchup

Rating: 5.0


Someone pass the ketchup. Pensive waiting,
equating hands of time filled with emptiness
absent it seems of company, still not eating,
What's 'keeping him, and how badly does he expiate?
Or apologise; treat him to one dinner date.
I'm famished. I'm past the point of hunger.
'Jeez, ' I hope he warms his bloody plates.
It wouldn't have happened when I was younger.
I'm going cold on this meal. I want him.,
I'll slip out of my heels and sneak a look.
I'll pinch his bottom, and I'll stay in trim.
'Isn't he yummy? ' Who needs a cookbook?
If he's lucky, I'll be wearing the thyme.
On a slow timer together, we'll chime.


— with Aislinn Heathcote.

Sunday, November 29, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kumarmani Mahakul 29 November 2015

Going cold on this meal is very amazing and thought provoking in this sharing. Wisely drafted.10

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Mark Heathcote

Mark Heathcote

Manchester
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Mark Heathcote
Manchester
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