THE IKEA SQUIDS OF THE APOCALYPSE
A squid-shaped clothes peg contraption I bought from IKEA
sways like a chandelier against the sulking ashen
day. Sprung pincers, like upside-down ‘A’s
dangle beneath plastic tentacles, holding
only a bikini – as if it had eaten a mermaid
save for her brassiere. (Too chewy). Murderous
as the day feels – sucked clean of beauty,
flesh. The IKEA Squids of the Apocalypse
closing in. No choice but to barricade my doors
and windows and huddle behind a mattress with
a shotgun, quoting bible passages.
Either that, or take the laundry in.