The Carpet Pythons And The Banana-Bender Laocoön Grandma Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Under the shade of the hood
Under the domed canopy
We seek the grilling gate
And the ancillary hot plate
Come to light with a switch
And the spreading of our meats
Given a light oil spray
And the promise of cauterization.

Lo! In the summered garden
Invested with seasonal flies
Sauced family members wait
Oblivious to burger or sausage
The anticipated breaded slot -
Except at times when a friend
Jostles to the fore to have a gander
Out of his place at the bar
Temporarily, mutters an advisory
About the necessity of onions
And the advantages of mushrooms,
The longed-for accessories -
Not for ourselves, indeed,
Seeing that this is our hope,
But for our children and wives!

So, under Brisbane skies
Compass the inebriated throng
When the barbecue is opened up
Neither anxious nor afraid
Of unseen labyrinthine gloom -
But quickly lost to consternation
When the pythons wreathe
Out of place in this festivity
Unwelcome serpents at the feast -
And in the crowd, the cry goes up:
‘Who will save us from these snakes
Infesting as they do the grills and jets
Denying sustenance from cinder
Seeing that a good feed is our right
For us, our children and our wives? '

Neither miffed nor feared
Of the Lamia of this circumstance -
The marbled coils of mishap
That girdle the unlit griddle -
Grandma reaches in
Grabbing serpentine musculature
And tugging free the first of two
Drops it into a waiting chilly bin
Followed soon by a second -
Unencumbered unlike Laocoön -
Unafraid, putting all to right
The snake-snagged barbecue.