seaside conversation
what is destiny? asked a seagull as I unwrap my chips
good question, I say, steam burps from my parcel,
a potato inferno of salt and grease
it’s the future, the end of the road
X marks the spot
your inevitability, given where you start
teeth tear and liberate the sauce – spurting red and sweet
it’s what happens when your human ingredients meet the incidents and opportunities on life’s path
if you like
fat congeals faster than I can eat
the seagull moves closer
is fate comfort or something to fear?
dead chips now lard-white – the seagull pounces
This was written in response to a prompt from poet Helen Openshaw who suggested Anna Kamienska’s poem Funny as inspiration.
