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 Andy Conner

Of All Things


Even when 

It’s not really the weather


You parade 

Your tie-dye

And printed cotton

All elephants 

And lotus flowers

Fairtrade, of course


You waft

Through the market

Organic this

Free-range that

In your achingly funky

Oxfam bag

A few coins dispensed

To tick another box



The dusk of dinner

I look at you

In a certain way

As you

Scrape your plate

Into our black hole bin


You return the dagger



‘It’s only a few spoonfuls 

of vegetables and rice’


Of all things

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