The budgie jumps from one perch		to the other

& back again		roughly twice

every second

clink 		clink	       clink                  clink

This tired old father is washing up again
& as the dishes battle their way to the surface

a howling rain outside makes it
like the house is slowly being dragged
through a car wash. 			The crying baby

next door is eroding the brickwork,
mortar now dissolving in the torrent
like we're living in a sandcastle.

Dad the Mad		washing			washing
& clink			clink			clink.

She points out that children reach an age
when they're no longer
most likely to be victims
& become probable offender.
So tiny/fierce
the slash of skinny arms
like swords through the room.

She says she is now Murder Girl
& spoils the effect
by laughing into her juice thereby
silencing the bird
drowning out the baby
outshining the dishes
& cementing the moment.
The much loved
sometimes serious
always dangerous

Murder Girl.

Les Wicks