An Awful Anniversary Assembly.

Sixty years, well here’s to it, I raise a glass; into it, I spit.
Jerk my head to call him near, passed his glass feigned a cheer.
He swallowed with greed; saliva and all. I curl my lip; soon he’ll fall.

A drunk, a bully full of hate; tonight, they will see his colours
spread out on the dinner plate. I served tripe and jellied eels.
This food, both banal and grey; like him, had seen a better day.

I smile at those around my cloth. His cronies and the hangers-on
those that doff their cap, those that think him a super chap.
“Please sit” I cry. Having previously dressed his tripe
with little crushed garlic to disguise the arsenic’s taste.
It was with finality he gorged in ungentlemanly haste.

Today my cynical response to the terrible poetry prompt. It takes me to a sixtieth Anniversary gathering. I hope you enjoy. Please leave me a comment I simply love to talk.

The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest 2/22 – 2/28/2020
https://chelseaannowens.com/2020/02/29/the-weekly-terrible-poetry-contest-2-29-3-6-2020/

46 thoughts on “An Awful Anniversary Assembly.

  1. Wow I can see that man pucking his rotten guts all over. No one deserved it more. You are really quite wicked inside, you little devil you. Perfectly written.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Can’t stand the smell of tripe and prepared eels once, not expecting to find a live one in the bottom of the bucket! The boys wanted to keep it as a pet, but it kept escaping, so we released it back into the wild. There were tears from the eldest who was concerned it would be OK.

    Liked by 1 person

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