A DISH SERVED COLD
- 6 days ago
- 1 min read
By Daphne M.Larner
She hung his suits
on trees
all down the Avenue
His evidence would be
that she was barking
She stole his address book,
and met his clients,
imagining sex-
But really, just for the thrill
of illicit meetings
for lunch or dinner -
she didn’t care
Their hands might travel
making further
suggestion. More wine,
playing for time, then
one impulsive decision
An exit with
‘Please excuse me’
indicating ‘the Ladies’
Her coat abandoned
as she disappeared
through the kitchens
She flirts with the chefs en route,
telling them to wrap her up
en croute - put her on the menu
for the next hungry punter
with money to spend
on a healthy appetite
Outside the staff entrance,
unseen, she waves for a taxi
The trees
on the Avenue
have shed his suits
like leaves
but the pavements are clean.
She will find other ways
to make him pay.