Saturday December 17th, 2016

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about being: caught red-handed.

Bakery was pretty steady today. Ended up with only four loaves of bread left at closing, along with about a dozen each of cinnamon buns, croissants, and butter tarts. Not too shabby.

Very much looking forward to a few quieter days ahead, even though I'm sure that Christmas stuff will probably fill them up pretty quickly.


I stood bloody-handed
Over the man I had harmed
When the damned cops arrived...
Sigh, stupid silent alarm.


Greg said...

The bakery sounds satisfying if there was so little left at the end of the day and it's nearly Christmas! Are there any specifically Christmas items there (gingerbread, for example?) or is it just the usual goods?
Haha, your last line makes your poem today! I'm still chuckling about it now :)

Caught red-handed
He flits around town like an artistic ghost,
Leaving satirical comment on pillar and post;
You all know his tag: Red 5 has landed
There's no catching him red-handed!

Marc said...

Greg - it's mostly the usual goods, but they've also made Christmas fruit cake from a recipe that the owner's husband's grandmother (grandmother-in-law?) used to make. It looks delicious, and knowing that it has been soaked in rum only makes it more appealing.

Happy to hear my finale had the intended results :D

Ah, Red 5. Dang it. I would love for the four of us to get back there together and finish that story off.

But! For now, this is quite lovely. I like your opening two lines so, so much. So thank you for this :)