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Bottled Vinegar

In these days of austerity
It’s getting to be a treat
To go out for a few pints
And have a bite to eat,
So, Please Mr Pub Landlord
Grant me just a little wish
Bring back the vinegar bottle
So I can splash me bit of fish.

Those little plastic sachets
You’ve generously placed there
Supposedly have perforation
But they just refuse  tear.
I need that essential liquid 
Over me chips and  cod
To transpose it from wonderful
To meal fit for a demi god.
 
I sit there by the mimute
Growing more and more tense
Looking at the pile of sachets
That just won’t dispense 
In despair I eat my meal
Before it grows cold
But it’s just not the same 
Without that liquid of gold.

I shall add that designer to 
That list of those folk that
I’d like to meet in a dark alley
When I’ve got  my baseball bat
A pox on the plastics industry
Once thought a packaging solution
Now a source of anger and despair
And the growing oceanic pollution.

I’m just a simple type of being
So many modern things I hate
Just give me fish and taties
Hot, served on a real plate
And I reall dont think that 
I’m asking rather a lot
For vinegar in a real bottle
And salt and pepper in a pot.

Copyright © Terry Ireland

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Book: Shattered Sighs