Leaving it until doomsday wont rate as a saving
grace, it’s the BBQ mate, & if anything’s sacred
it’d be in the top three, given a fridge t’ keep th’
beer cool & tools y’ need t’ do the job properly;
come to think of it - cleaning the bloody thing’s
a post-graduate assignment & fair qualification
aligned to necessary modification t’ not lose th’
plot - and I didn’t - not until checking th’ beer
Which thankfully was coolly inviting; so a clean
cooking machine suggests, lets pop a top and
we did, without maligning the Third Ashes Test
Cricket commentary or the King Parrot feeding
next to a now pristine BBQ, & who, needless t’
say, chuckled quietly, and agreed - ultra okay
© 14 December 2017, I. D. Carswell 
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