Water on board never comes to the boil,
the tea tastes foul, slops into my saucer.
Atlantic waves gush over the deck,
slap us sideways. Sun beds stacked in the rain.
I sit in my cabin. Watch a storm petrel fly
across the wind. Didn’t send you the postcard
until we reached Cadiz, saw life rush by
through the Camera Obscura.
Voyage Around my Kitchen
Lab rats have never been fed
burnt toast. Science
is not always reliable
and unless you've got a state
of the art appliance,
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