THE COFFIN SALESMAN

THE COFFIN SALESMAN or
REVENGE IS BEST SERVED COLD
I knock on the door
Like a salesman from Betterware
But, I'm not selling
My catalogue is in my head
Memories for sale
Five years of trust
Soaked up like a sponge
He answers my knock
Light reflects off his head
No hair to stop it
He's 28, looks 40
"What do you want"
'Daddy' enquires
Removing his pinney
"I was just making children,
In the kitchen.
I'm missing one ingredient
Are you a donor, or Dinorod
My pipes are blocked
I have 2 children" (I know)
"They are tucked up in bed"
"Did you check the cupboard
Under the stairs" I ask
"For monsters lurking"
I smile my secret smile
They sleep their innocent sleep
"Is she in" I boldly ask
"Would she like to study my catalogue"
It has pictures and words
And hundreds of pages
Like Argos and Index
But, no prices will you find
Everything is free
Two for the price of one
Lewis Carroll would have loved it
"How are the children
Have they grown
Do they remember me"
I was younger then
Once I was upright
Like a man
Now I am a shadow
"Won't you come in"
He opens the door wider
She's standing there
In the hallway
With light behind her
Transparent as always
"How are you" I smile
Tomorrow is the first day
Of the rest of your deaths
But, she doesn't know it
Nor does he
They'll make a lovely couple
Side by side
In matching coffins
From Ikea
Flatpacked, cheap at half the price
Easy to erect
I've a steamroller in my boot
I smile at my little joke
She stretches her mouth
It could be a smile
Did she have onions for tea
They give her wind
She once told us
We were like a family
"I'll sit and read the papers"
She'd say in her head
Let them wait on me
I've been humiliated
By their son
I'll make them pay
Suck them dry
Till there's nothing left
"Is that a gun in your pocket,
Or are you just pleased to see me"
She mumbles, attempting a joke
"It's funny you should say that,
You must be psychotic" I reply
"It comes with a silencer
Because of the children
No noise to wake them"
They'll carry on dreaming
No monsters in cupboards
Or under the stairs
No mummy or 'daddy'
Smelly feet or smelly bums
Tomorrow is the first day
Of the rest of their lives