a committee is formed around the coals

those for and against
putting chicken on before the chops
keeping the lid on the weber
or braaing on an open flame

placing the cooked meat
back into the original marinade pan
flattening the coals and adding more

whether smoke means burning meat
or the politics of using your
drinking beer to douse the flames.

Soon the participants in this
exotic democratic dwindle
down to one. Like parliamentarians

who rarely
go to work

out of gradual disagreement.

And the one who remains at
the centre of the
roaring heat

forms the nucleus
of the carcass.

With unzipped sleeping bags
spread out on the lawn
the german shepherd
has forgotten all his training

and sniffs from
hand
to hand
snatching what he can

before someone shoves him off.

The toddlers are the easiest prey.
They flap their bread slices
like white, innocent flags.
And howl, diverting attention
from the mangy mugger
when they get robbed.

He skulks in the bushes
licking the butter
from his paws.
Pure jakkals.
Stalking the suburbs.

The happy flowers accept the rain.
The grass shrinks to an itch on the shoulder.

Blurred out on the lawn
blankets and cushions and squeaky toys.

A glass of warm wine.
Strained, with friends.

When:

someone asks what I think about GEAR.

Website developed by Lynn Danzig