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HELLO SAUSAGE
eggmon @ eggmilk . com
Quickly, send now
JAPATEA

The long grass bows low, dripping with the blood of eight thousand fallen warriors
My hand hovers over the boxes arranged in a line in the cupboard. Which tea do I choose?
I grasp for cherry and feel confident that I have made a good decision. But possibly I have just been coerced by my own fickle imagination
Swords lay exposed and ruddy against smashed shoulder plates
The air smells of iron, and a thin red mist drifts across the field
I have killed them all. Again
In the space between the kettle and the fridge
They didn't stand a chance
All arranged. Mouths just thin lines of determination, of readiness for battle
And I exploded them
Because I willed it. Because the sugar bowl was empty
Warhorses, laden with armour and flags, sat open-eyed and flared of nostril, in half and in pieces. Their guts rolling out onto the ground, like a flotsam of jellyfish
Casualties of beverage craft
God help the pirates
I have run out of biscuits

by eggmon