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Post by amylou on Jul 12, 2011 15:17:33 GMT -5
Breakfast and Lunch
Let's have brunch in my cafe on a Sunday afternoon. You won't need a knife, a fork or a spoon. Get cozy in my booth and have your fill. By the way, I'm picking up the bill. I personally recommend the buffet, it's all you can eat, unlimited visits and I won't make you get a new plate, because I'm your dish, my curves, the meal. What's that you say? You want to know what's on the buffet? That's a fair question, I suppose. Well, there's me, sunny side up and my two pink berries atop two mounds of crumpets. I have a warm muffin just from the oven and lots of cream if you please. I can butter your bread, toast your tea cakes, french your toast and fry your croquette. I aim to satisfy, and you can stay all day. So please don't rush, take your time when you brunch. There's no hurry, you're the only customer I want.
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Post by martinshaw on Jul 12, 2011 15:49:50 GMT -5
The picker.
I am oblivious to the haemorrhaging of over ripe peaches in the prickly heat. It is my last basket and I leave the rest to the fruit flies and old women limping around to make jam from the slumping afterbirth of baby pips. And make jam they do, and trifles, and more trifles then yoghurts, and itsy pudding things that melt in your mouth. Their late husband’s are guilty of woman-slaughter, but not quite dead those ladies blossom late and ooze the life they’ve been depraved of. It’s represented in strawberry tarts and other fruity afterbirth, a jelly with all things sweet and fusty preserved for a day or two. What I am saying is.........................................................................
(this is shite, sorry)
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Post by amylou on Jul 12, 2011 18:52:32 GMT -5
Oh Martin, really? This is what you give us!!!!!
Come on, give us something from within, something deep seeded, something about painting or hanging wallpaper, or a bedridden customer's house, anything!!
But you're excused, because you work all the time and this gives me a - this is shite, sorry - pass one day and I very well may need it soon. Running out of ideas and it's day number 6. How will we make it?
Any comments on my poem? Hmmm?
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Post by martinshaw on Jul 13, 2011 1:58:19 GMT -5
Amy, I like yours. Its stands as day 6, the poem of 24 hours
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Post by martinshaw on Jul 13, 2011 1:59:24 GMT -5
Also it's saucy; you minx!
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Post by amylou on Jul 13, 2011 6:29:18 GMT -5
I'm saucy, and it was really fun writing it! LOL To go with something not so serious for a change. Thanks.
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