“Never keep your tomatoes in the fridge”
my visitors tell me and I wonder,
as I make them tea,
– one weak as dishwater
– one artificially sweetened
do we all display these symptoms
or is it a British condition?
During dinner I am made aware
of a universal intolerance to nutmeg,
there is rampant heartburn in town,
blocked sinuses are inherited.
As for the deadly qualities of kiwi fruit …
I suggest a small break
before we move on to dessert.
Stalling for time I return to the tomatoes
asking “What will happen to them?”
But the conversation has shifted
to the pavement that rose up,
the new car bumpers that get bigger
the closer they get to inanimate objects,
and the annoying fact that days of the week disappear.
As I make them coffee,
– both with cream
– both with biscuits
they discuss macular degeneration
as if it is the new margarine
and I place the tomatoes in the fridge
to stop them going wrinkly.
I really really like this poem… It is very deft in how it manages to slide between the mundane and a light of touch but nonetheless profound critique of the British (universal) condition of dispensing unasked for wisdom as a means of keeping the conversation going…. or at least that’s how I read it. Loved the wit of it, the balance of the detail with the bigger lens of what the poem is looking at. Genius.
Yes, pure delight!
A fantastic opening line and final line and infact everything inbetween!!
thanks for the comments – I am reading a book by Michael Rosen – Don’t Mention the Children – and it comes across as all true and no fancy gimmicks – just down on the page as it is – so after years trying to snip bits out and edit edit edit I think this book has inspired me to leave things as they are
Great poem – works all the way through. Three cheers for Michael Rosen!!!