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Night in a 7-11

Sedate tins
Of yellow tomatos
Burst into flames.

A lady in a large beret
Turns over a chicken
But can't see its price.

It squawks.
A man with one shoe
Methodically reads

The years on wine bottles
2007, 2005, 2008
He reaches the end

And turns to breakfast
Cereal's expiry dates.
It's a hoot.

The floor is a forest
Of pine needles.
It must be a promotion.

Pudgy fingers
Squeeze packs of frozen peas
To test for freshness.

They belong to Julia Roberts,
But Julia herself
Is not in tonight.

The tannoy
Declaims "We'll make it
Look like an accident".

But as it's high-pitched
And in an unusual dialect,
No-one stops to listen.

 Poems
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