Roof Tiling (Inspired by David Firth)

'The roof tiles need fixin'.' said the man.
With his drool rolling off his mouth,
he grabs the tools and stumbles
up that damned flight of stairs.
He vaguely remembers the
headless corpse in the bathroom.
'Was it the postman?' He thought.
But ah, the postman was
old news. 'The milkman, most certainly'

Wonderful view it is.
The stars blinked at him. Oh,
and his old friend, the crow
had come to visit again - perched
on the chimney, staring with its
inquisitive eyes.
'You saw it didn't you?'
The crow opened its beak and let
out a thick river of tar.
'Look what you've done to the tiles.
Shoo!'
It cackled and mocked at him.
'Martha's found the foot in the garden.
She's telling on you.'

The man left the bag of tiles on the roof.
Tiling would have to wait (yet again),
as he crept down the stairs
and made his way to the still-sleeping Martha.