Moveable feasts

Investing in pork belly futures
and dressing
Haute couture,
they’ll end up in Madame Tussaud’s
of that,
I am quite sure.

We freeze just as well as the millpond
when the day at the looms is done,
the Master goes home to his loved ones
and
the misery goes on and on.

I’m waiting for my chance at redemption
in a cell down at Pentonville jail,
the firing squad comes about lunchtime,
but
I’m still hoping that I will get bail.

© 2020, John Smallshaw.