Supper

The chips I bought from local shop
Gold and crisp with the sparkle of salt and
the acid tang of non brewed condiment
The paper bag, greaseproof, and transparent
where beef dripping gave lie to its feature
And above
The shoal of gulls following the bait in my hand
The mackerel of the sky
Waiting for the jetsam of the tourist

Stu
(inspired by a line of WAV...)