Memories of a Biscuit

Didn’t there used to be something
called a majestic wafer in the fifties
aimed at the early rotting tooth?
I’d have killed for it at nine,
now I hardly remember
whether things were plain
or chocolate coated
in my youth

I loved it then,
had such an appetite,
like later when
I would have died for my first wife
though in fact I lived for her.
Now
if I could just recall her name
well that would take the biscuit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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