Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

Ode to a Takeaway

by Vince Horsman

                        ‘Twas no time and you were gone
                        Left my life without dance or song
                        We met on Friday at the local chinky
                        You were wrapped in something slinky
                        We left, you hanging on my arm
                        Your brown paper bag oozing charm
                        Resplendent and silver-cased
                        You typified the best in taste
                        Your rich perfume, I smell it now
                        Chop suey, prawn crackers and beef chow
                        Mein, and ribs to spare
                        You touched my lips without a care
                        During that most playful hour,
                        I found that you were sweet and sour
                        You even had prawn balls, they say
                        Which must have made you walk that way
                        68, 35, 37, 64,
                        They don’t write numbers like that any more
                        A shadow of your former self
                        Lay in my fridge upon the shelf
                        You lasted but two nights my friend
                        ‘Til your existence reached an end
                        Life is empty without you, how
                        I miss you so, at least for now.
                        A rose by any other name
                        You take-aways are all the same
                        And after all is said and done,
                        In half an hour  I’ll want another one

Added: 30.04.2011