Tinned fruit
By Parson Thru
- 679 reads
Tinned fruit
Soup (chicken)
I stoop, basket hooked
arm crook’d
Hmmmm – nah!
Not tonight
Next aisle
curry, pizza
Ryan or Lou
can’t remember who
tingles me from ear to toe
sun shining through
the white
suspended ceiling
Cod roe
No.
Frozen chips
Pause
Got some
Drift on
Head high
Straight back
Supple hips
Smiling
Even at the turnip
with tattoos and
bull-terrier pining
by the trolley park
Staring harder
than Parmesan
at my ambivalence
and absence
of hetero-testosteronic
claim to bargains on
the reduced items shelf
and acceptance
of myself
Hams hanging
clenched
Clearly distressed
as I push
the tresses from my face
in a manner
calculated to help me see
while he
just sees a tart
(mmmm, shall I?
summer fruits?)
The beard confused
I think
Bless
Mince
oooh!
I fancy that tonight
Lord
I’m feeling good
loose and
high as a kite
Free
But turnip’s in a stew
Is it me?
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