The Vegetable Shop Man

IMG_9399-1 - Copy

The vegetable shop man and I are looking at the window of the second-hand shop across the road, in which someone has been mildly satirical about the Royal Wedding.
You’ve got to love a mildly satirical window dresser.
At least I think they’ve been satirical.
Cardboard masks of the Royal family grin wonkily from assorted mannequins dressed in second hand wedding outfits.
William looks alright, but The Queen looks minging.
‘Posh and Becks’ he says, despairingly.
‘Fake celebrities’ says I.
‘They’re no more celebrities than we are’ he says.
‘All a distraction from what’s really going on’ says I.
We look at the mannequins again.
He shrugs.
I sigh.
‘I don’t want to hear about it’ he says.
‘What about Gaza, and Israel?’
‘Indeed’ says I.
A short silence ensues, within which develops a mutual understanding that all we can do about it is just crack on.
‘Bye then’ I say.
‘Bye’ he says.
‘Hope you sell a lot of strawberries!’
The vegetable shop man smiles.

© Gail Foster 18th May 2018

Advertisements

Not In My Name

 

*

I wonder how she feels today

The Muslim girl I spoke to on the bus

The girl who had so many things to say

About how she feels free and safe with us

I wonder if today she feels the same

Dear child of the warm Damascan breeze

Cry God and Allah we are all the same

Not in my name, not in my name, please

*

© Gail Foster 23rd March 2017

Plump Fruits; for a randy friend

14732283_10154665198902938_4003508327600405940_n

Ha ha, Girl, you know who you are…

*

I meet her sometimes when I’m walking

She’s as ripe as the fruit in the hedge

Today on the corner, she’s talking

Of the virtues of sex, and of veg

 …

She shows me her favourite carrot

Like a rabbit, she says, oh I see

I’ve read about those in me garret

They look a bit scary to me

My voice gets her all of a flutter

Oh bless her, so randy, but sweet

Like the apples she turns in to butter

And the jam that she makes for a treat

 …

We both prefer men, she’s just flirty

And her light innuendos are fun

Next to her I feel slightly less dirty

And more like a well behaved nun

 …

Oh, she fizzes like sherbet fountains

And no rose be as fresh, or as pink

And as for the plump of her raspberries, well

I’d best leave it there, I think

 *

© Gail Foster 28th October 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Told You So

A work of poetic fiction 

*

He said that he was broken

She told him she was broke

Neither took much notice

When the other person spoke

Far too bl**dy much in love

To weigh the implications

Not much need to forecast then

Future complications

She rationalised the broken thing

He thought that she would change

He thought she would make money

She thought he’d be less strange

You’re not broken, love, she said

And chose a metaphor

You function on most channels

Just not on Radio 4

She’s pretty good in bed, he thought

She’s bright and going far

Shame she’s getting on a bit

And hasn’t got a car

The years went by so quickly

She watched him getting odd

Sometimes he was wonderful

Sometimes a total sod

She had to use a dictionary

To study mental health

He watched with disappointment

Her indifference to wealth

I told you so, he said, and she

Said she had told him too

And both of them remembered

What they had forgot they knew

He really was an odd one

And she didn’t have a dime

And nowt would ever change those things

Not age nor luck nor time

There’s nothing here for me, he thought

Her interest rate is falling

She’s still in social housing

And her prospects are appalling

Love moves mountains, so she thought

I love him sane or mad

She thought that he still loved her too

She really had it bad

In the final conversation

They reviewed the words they’d spoken

How she had told him she was broke

And he said he was broken

I still love you so, she said

He shrugged, his eyes grew dim

With all the faith she had in love

She said these words to him

Take me, love, or leave me

For I always shall be poor…

At that the b*gger got his coat

And walked right out the door

*

by Gail