Category Archives: Christmas

Bubble & Squeak




foil toil

fire burn
cauldron bubble
fattened stomach
ballooning stress
gorge and glut
rut to excess
arses spread
generic sofa
all becoming
festive loafers
sip and slurp
burp and bare
white noise stare
glazed potato
seep and emit
ponder on
yearly remit

Was it
really good
for you?


About to add a poached egg to my bubble & squeak


Humbugs in the Hamper



Hampered by Hamper blindness
to stop gathering these food parcel pamphlets
would be a festive kindness
Nostalgic stirring whirrings in the belly of my mind
The sums never add up
but the decadence is addictive
and the packaging predictive
when it comes to the afflicted
I will not be constricted and
YES I do conFESS
that I certainly and proudly suffer from
Working out alcohol to packaging ratio
Plotting the ascension of tastebuds of yum
Hoping for something slicker
when I thumb flick through reams of gluttony tape ticker
This one’s recyclably sound
likely made from citrus netting
Rifle past the goldplated trifle to stroke
choc coated bi-onic smoked cheese
hand-reared avec ménage et trois royal honeybees
Spanned and flanned
beyond your banned x-rated dreams……
Not my dreams – my dreams are Gene Wilder
Willy wonka on the inside
Can’t you see him waltzing
in the stigmatism of my square eyes?
Yet, most items will be destined to exceed that sell by date
Being worshipped, not consumed
Placed in a deep dark recess, kitchen cupboard tomb
The yearly go compare
I wonder how it came about
I wonder why I care
Always browsing the ones at Harrods, John Lewis, M&S
Typing out all the quantities
working out which wishful crate is best
Perhaps it stems from days of old
when we’d have food tins from gramps
Undistinguishable cylindrical silver treats
with a letter proudly stamped
What tin will you have with your tea?
Bring on the tinned food lottery
I’ll have a P please Bob!
A ‘P’ might be peas but could be prunes to plop upon your plate
with egg and chips, tinned peaches (main and pud)
We consolidate
I bet I know who used to feast from these same tins as me
Culinary catastrophes made good
Except I didn’t see the money potential of fruit cocktail and mash
Heston Blumenthal closed his lids, inhaling a whiff of cash
Lets make a pact and cease this show
Why pay for descriptive poetical consumables?
Bizarrely over prized unusable useables
Fattened Jam drizzled biccies with encrusted glitter hickies
Me oh my
Go D-I-Y
Or wait until boxing day when they’re all half price
coming with a set of six slick steak carving knifes
It’s probably just jealously I’m putting on display
why I’m down, slightly dampers, causing me dismay
Coz I’ve never EVER received one of these elusive Christmas Hampers
suffocated in bubble wrap with ten miniatures of Champers


My traditional addiction one person show
Certainly a Christmas obsession of mine
Here’s my address if you’re inclined 😉

Catherine Crosswell

photo (28)