Puppetry

I find myself in a horror film..
at a garden party sipping fake
cocktails..
of myths and innuendo wrapped
As petit orderves..
chewing the fat funnel fed
Fole gras of society's elite..
I nibble as a pro..
waiting to be sussed at any moment..
my serviette could slip,
and I'm exposed as at charlitan
with my feet under the table..
they are suspicious..
they dont include me..in
their local chit chat..I'm an
interloper..just waiting to be
served up on a platter..
with the scallions washed
in Mineral Water...
I survey the opposition discretely
She with the wide awake eyebrows,
She with the lesbian undertones..
Her with the vibrant mancunian
accent..and her with the strawberry
hair disposed.
I dare not laugh..in an inappropriate
place..or I will be shot with fast track complacency..
I look for a slot, a small window to
add a human sound..but this group
are very professional, its if they already
rehearsed the scene and my tiny bit part
is just...background shadow..with the odd rhubarb remark muttered in...at this point..
The Puppetry of the Penis sprang forth..
their ' secret weapon' exposed..
and I frantically Google openly..
to see what they're talking about..
Puppetry of The Penis..
it looks painfull to me,
On stage at The Apollo, Shaftsbury Ave..
How appropriate..
Now we are joined in solid laughter..
Now I am in there with the Real Housewives of Epworth County..
I am the horror...

Bless them, it was wonderful..to enjoy a totally different experience...