Commercial Foam Lunch

Steel - toed boots crunching over semi-frozen wood remains;

Main Course preparations in motion !

Later, a Cherry Glace' - lightly dusted with Traffic Lights, and

A lone toy poodle, lost, drifting aimlessly amongst the marshmallow bits.

Plasticine golden spears mimic and display their version of Sunrise,

but on the outskirts of town, rarely seen.

Meanwhile, on the Diner's coatrack, Mr. Fischer's Homburg is being violated-

by the probing fingers of orphaned gloves...

...whilst his luncheon Hamburger is being Masticated-

A later distress, but it's the food he loves....

His colon, spastic;

he pays with,

and is,

Plastic.

L'Reaper Deletes