Friday 26 November 2010

#60: I Lie To My Friends And Say I Can Cry Milk, But I Can't Really

I am quite the fruity accordion of lies,
stretching myself out like a fishing boast
only to huff down in noisy protest
when pals bookend me in pubs,
querying my latest claim.

The thing is, my right hand unscrews at the wrist.
I once drank a bottle of liquid soap
then retched glistening mineral water.
I have ridden an elephant into a wedding reception,
clicked my fingers at the bridesmaids
and carried them off, shuddering with anticipation,
their dresses heaped with cake.

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