Things I Miss After A Year Inside

I miss the taste of fish shop chips

and battered cod swimming

in salt and vinegar, and watching

the world turn past me,

for everything

is silent,

as the people make their way

down Church Street, Saturday

shopping bags in hand, smiles

painted, fixed and grinning

as Reds and Blues size each other

up and down the table, and I,

in ignorance listen to a song

as batter burns my lips.