Chips

When I get home

From town

I like to put on some classical music

Vinyl, of course

Make myself a herbal tea

Snack on some seeds

Whilst completing a cryptic crossword

The Times, of course

I like to lie back

With a challenging

Yet inspirational

Piece of literature

Russian, of course

And as I drift off to sleep

In my Egyptian cotton pyjamas

I like to pretend

That the highlight of my day

Wasn’t the chips, cheese and gravy

I bought from Kev

That I can still feel

Waging an endless war

With the seeds

And tea

And denial.

©Stuart Buck

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