Sylvia stirs beef steak sizzling in a saucepan
As members of her expectant clan
Salivate. Aromas waft in the air
Tomatoes tease a pair
Of taste buds that anticipate
An opportunity to participate
In gulping morsels of grub
As pancreatic and gastric juices rub
Shoulders when a hoarse voice
Shouts, 'Don't pinch my choice
Cuts, Stephanie
Although the sight of your knee
Causes me grief.
Reminds me of your chief
Taster. Leave alone
My Sylvia. She ain't on loan'
David's sticky hands
Squeezing like elastic bands
Reached out but caught nothing
Because ahead of him there wasn't a thing.
David pops into the living room and casts a fatal stare
At Kris who meets his glare.
'Can I help you, David?
For a showdown, are you avid? '
Sylvia jumps between the two men
'Are you insane? '
She shoves Kris away.
'Don't ruin my day! '
'As for you, David, you're not welcome here
Do you want a beer
That Kris your daylight may switch off?
Call your buff.'
David squeezes past Kris.
'I want a kiss
For old time's sake
It's my cake'
Kris shakes his head
Enough said
He makes a sudden turn
'David, in hell you'll burn.'
David reaches out for Sylvia
'David, bad idea
Kris smacks David on the face
David falls with a blood trace.
David rises to his feet
He falls down again to the beat
Of Kris's uppercut
And on him pees Kris's cat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem