I'd still have been annoyed about the plums
Meg Barton
Meg Barton was born in Manchester, but has lived all of her adult life in Oxford, where she worked in publishing. She is also an amateur artist and cartoonist. She likes to cast a humorous, or sometimes nostalgic, eye over life's major or minor predicaments. Her poems have appeared in a number of anthologies and magazines, including Snakeskin, Orbis, The Interpreter's House, and Lighten Up Online.
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Relativity
Yesterday I threw out the shirt that I hate,
the one with the not-quite-comfortable collar.
Now that I am rid of it,
my mornings will be straightforward.
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Today I threw away that hideous mug,
always the only one left in the cupboard.
Now that it’s gone,
drinking my coffee will always be a pleasure.
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And now that Anna left last week,
Anna at work, who drove us all mad
with her grating voice and constant need for attention,
now she’s departed,
the rest of us will be able to live in harmony.
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So how is it I never noticed
the other hated shirt before —
the one with the irritating buttons?
Or that mug with a chip on the handle?
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And funny how annoying Gerald at work has suddenly become.
Eating his apple like that.