TEABAG
I done a fuckoff turd this morning
he declared, sauntering into the kitchen.
a real fucking honker;
like a bloody rock;
could’ve killed a man with it I tell you.
I looked across at his missus,
who was stirring a heart-shaped teabag
in an old blue mug. her dressing gown
had a hole in the left sleeve.
that’s lovely dear. she mumbled to the spoon
as she squashed the teabag
against the side of the cup.
I wondered
whether his shit
looked like the teabag