February Copyright © 2009 Rob Lock

Tonight Morgan is going with the grain:
drinking all the beer and whisky in the house,
for this is Pancake Day, falling flat
despite the rush of sugar, cut of lemon -
though not, perhaps, as flat as forty days
now lining up against him as he plans
to put ash into Wednesdays, sackcloth
into Saturdays, and hang on, determined
that heʼll make it to the hot cross buns and Easter eggs
that beckon on the shelves already, out
of reach to one brought up on self denial
and proof, proof, against illicit sweetness.