bully beef

 Bully beef

 

Twenty years after the war

I found in the attic of a small hotel

several cans of corned beef.

since the cans were dark green, I assumed

they had belonged to the German army

not that they were going to demand

 the cans back I opened one the meat was

perfect and could be used in a stew.

No one wanted to a taste the meat I ended up

eating the corned beef over several weeks

until I got tired of the bully beef.

Today I bought a tin, it tasted good but had

less fat than I remembered.

I got an e.mail a friend of mine who also

liked corned beef had died, and it saddened

me much, I used to send him my books

he was working class but well-read and he

liked my books; mind he thought less of me

political stance.

Another friend has gone,  not many left

of them now but

I will remember Alex Skillen, my only fan,

 with fondness.

◄ pre-dawn

cleanliness ►

Comments

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Fernwood Press

Fri 22nd Feb 2019 00:06

I love the turn this takes halfway through to find a meaning behind the moment of finding that corned beef.

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