The Barbecue

“Hey, neighbour! We heard that you were having a barbecue (a little birdie in the shape of my wife). Could hear the traffic from our kitchen and the kids kept up a noise about what was happening over here.

And I’ve been looking at the time and wondering, ‘Where’s the invite?’ Can’t seem to see one anywhere. Yeah, you saw us watching you and we were watching… Well, anyway, we are seen to be seen…

We could smell the steak, hot dogs and whatever else you got going on with the grill from our side (and is that fish? To each their own…).

Didya burn yourself just now? You keep rubbing your hands together and they’re so red that I wonder if you’re gonna take that skin off (no good without gloves sometimes).

Nope, it doesn’t taste too bad (a little bit too much time on the grill with the sauce)… It’s always good to share with the people you know best. Yummy!”

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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