Nanny

My uncle ate my gran last night by the light of the silvery moon.
Just took a fork and dug right in, and handed me a spoon.
Said "Seems a shame to waste her
Since she's here and still not cold -
If we leave it too much longer she'll be stiff,
And full of mould."
And you have to see his point I guess although it's still quite odd
And I'm not sure I could reconcile
A meal like that with God,
And I'm not sure what my mum would say if -
Blood all down my sweater -
She asked me if I'd seen my nan and I said
"Yep ' just ate her."
My uncle though had no such qualms and made a hearty dinner
As plate by steaming plateful he at last made Nanny thinner.
I suppose it's just the way he copes, the way he deals with grief -
No tears for him, no sobbing fits, just Nan instead of beef.
So I took the spoon away with me and left him with his mummy '
He'll never be alone again with Nanny in his tummy '
And I went to tell my brother that our nan was now deceased
And to pass across my uncle's spoon, and point him to the feast.