Friday 25 November 2011

#85: Brother Pudding

comes steaming out of the monastery,
his robes splattered with suet.
Angry red scalds decorate his face.

'The Christmas pudding is ruined!' he exclaims,
shaking his fists at the winter sky.
'Why would you do this?
Why? Why? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?'

Then an Iberian wild boar falls from nowhere,
breaking his neck cleanly.

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