Ceaseless toil,
the spilling oil.

Boiling the oil
spilled on the floor,
he uses your mum as a
knob at the door,
as a knot at his tie.

Mum, mum, mum,
oh, what great and predictible simetry…
Look, mummy (she lacks simetry),
those pigeons bake their own eggs
in low-fat, fossile oil.

Look, mummy, those men try
to fry fish in their brains.