Sloth on Fine Dining
Sloth’s favoured position for eating
is legs above head – not his own legs, of course –
and being the slothiest of sloths he’ll lunch
at the laziest of leisure; a real underachiever.
Accomplishing more than fool-sloths,
whose tongues are prized as mere limbs
obtaining tasteless leaves beyond their can’t be arsed
reach, Sloth revels in the rainforest-wet of his reward;
lapping up all he needs to nourish fruitless days.
And don’t be duped to think that starburst effect
cunted down thighs, up spine, out to tips of digits,
or any echoed cries from the canopy above enough
to lull Sloth into some nuzzled slumber. He’s more
than awake, face already tucked into his second course.
Brett Evans lives, writes, and drinks in his native north Wales. Brett’s debut pamphlet, The Devil’s Tattoo, is available from Indigo Dreams. he is also co-editor at Prole http://www.prolebooks.co.uk/