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I have paid the window cleaner
TV Licence, Road Tax
Third Party, Fire and Theft
— The MOT has months to go

The compost bucket is emptied
The lavatory door now bolts securely
The bird table is upright on the new-mowed lawn
— more Beaktreat Mix is in the shed
The video is set to the correct time
and the TV gets every channel

Two kilos of Aran Banner are on the rack
plus a selection of other root vegetables
— the garlic, I'm afraid, was in decay
The fridge is packed — though low on eggs
All leftovers have been eaten

Wolf is bathed and flea-free, walked
and stroked, his lead and muzzle
hang on the back door

Several traps primed with Philadelphia
— I never cared much for that stuff —
are dispersed in the pantry

My clothes are put away
My books are back on their shelves
My letters are posted

The big knives and cleaver are razor-sharp
All doors and windows are Chubb-secure
The answerphone is listening intently
The door chime waits to ding and dong

I am standing at the front gate
near the green box of other recyclables

I am washed, shaved, and tidily dressed
My seminal vesicles are wholly depleted
I have all my papers
I am not in the least hungry

It really is a beautiful morning!

When I hear my mobile play its tinny swatch
of Old MacDonald, I shall press "Speak"

An infinitely distant Sort-of-Official
will tell me exactly where to go.

      — Ted Burford