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Piss Crisps


Tell me, what are your favourite crisps?


As I have given this considerable thought


The sort of deep, romantic thought that poets like to do on park benches


With a raised eyebrow


One fist under the chin


And the other scratching around a bag of Hula Hoops


So they can put the potato rings on the end of their fingers without looking


Then nibble them off one by one


As all poets must like to do


When I realised to my shame


Something surely unforgivable


My favourite flavour is promotional.




Give me a packet of limited edition please


I'm not buying because I think they look nice


I've not heard good things


I just need to try them


If Walkers brought out piss crisps I'd march straight down the shops


I know what you're thinking but don't be daft


It's more like how roast chicken crisps are actually vegetarian


You may be feigning some denial


Telling yourselves that you wouldn't try the Walkers Piss Crisps


Now see here


Dignity is the crisps natural enemy


One for the dog & two for me.




Heralded by mum's making pack' lunches


Pub landlords making profit


They're working class, classless and fucking class


If you think Kettle Chips are middle class


Then explain Truffle crisps in a Tesco meal deal


How would a food critic tackle a bag of Skips?


They may not be good but by God they are amazing


How can a Michelin star chef possibly

comprehend the complexities of a Scampi Fry?


The history, social etiquette and larger pairing


The political juggernaut that is the humble Tayto


Or yelling to the playground on the first day of term


The exotic news from your holidays


"Spain have these well fancy Walkers called Lays".




Walkers might be popular but they don't half know it


They could release an unappealing conceptual range of flavours


like Spicy Bereavement or Austerity Pickle


Just take my money


But they have repeatedly denied Salt & Vinegar were ever blue or Cheese & Onion were ever green


It leaves a feeling in the pit of your stomach


Next to where the crisps go


For if they loved us back then they would admit they were wrong and we were right


In lieu of any sense or logic


Just to ease the feeling that we are being gaslit by a major corporation


But instead I’ll just eat this blue bag with a confused look on my face


As I wonder how much of my childhood was imagined


Hugging my knees and repeating these last words


Admit it you bastards.

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