I don’t ask for much but…

left: original artwork, right: the tea towel itself (creased, stained and used)
No items found.
No items found.

feed me baked beans on toast after my extra hour in bed

Then as the night falls let me stir soup of spices and veg
Let me turn the ladle like it's part of my body
extending my reach like it's Halloween on Strictly
Let me use the cappuccino cup you find annoying
But is perfect for the holding
Ideal for the sipping 
cross legged in bed 
other hand free to cradle my bread.

Let's have lentils the way our grandmothers made them
Let's wrap spinach in filo 
And ourselves in blankets
Let's do tea and biscuits
Apple crumble and chunky knits
Let's dare to sneak swede into curry
Swap salad for spaghetti
Let tuna mayo turn to tuna melt
Let gelato become affogato.
Let roughly chopped root vegetables roast with tomatoes,
in an olive oil lido
at the last minute call upon the chickpeas
and just as they start splitting,
add feta and chilli
eat in pyjamas
in front of the telly. 

Let's try and make turnips happen
And when that fails let's console with double blackberries in gin
Let's aim to collectively pretend there's a taste to pumpkin 
Let's hate to love butternut squash,
because does it want to be fucking peeled or not? 
Let's do three quarters of a roast dinner:
hold the stuffing, out of respect for December.
Let's make a mess with juicy plums
or sweets that look like eyeballs and taste like rubber. 

Let's make like our ancestors and fry the okra

Lets watch movies with popcorn covered in toffee and butter

Let the plates get warmer as the nights get colder

Let’s be witches who put the oven in coven.

Let's grab our denim jackets, and of course, a hoodie,
let's reach for whatever it takes to ensure there's coffee
flasks are good in theory, Me? I'd rather grab £3.50
Either way: let's head outside
to notice all the tricks of nature
there before us, treats to savour. 

With the shedding trees beneath our feet
and survival in our teeth
can we please remember we're animals?
So instead of burning ourselves out like candles
let’s store ourselves away like treasure the squirrel handled.

Let’s do as the bears do
we’ll re-emerge for all the joys of winter soon,
but for now, can we sit back, drink turmeric milk?
Can we be present?

I don’t ask for much,
can we have an autumn?