Gold ingots mined
from the sea with nets
veins swimming in the dark
Gold nuggets mined
from the soil with spades
the sun regrown underground
Gold not melted like the lager
glimmering in my glass
but deep fried
with mushy green
(My second dinner of fish & chips in four days in Scotland. That’s reasonable, right?)
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry lovers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
It looks so delicious! I would have devoured that meal! LOL. And the verse is great, too, Bart! LOL!
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Thank you, Tre! I practically licked the plate clean.
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Haha! I don’t blame you! 🤣😂😆
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That does look yummy and reasonable, yes. What is the mushy green? Loving your Scotland shares. 🙏🏻
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‘Mushy green ‘ is mushy peas – have to be tasted to be believed – the taste of peas, intensified – with a hint of mint. double yum!
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Thanks, Michele! Bernie is correct, of course, mushy peas are part of the fish & chips experience that, for some reason, didn’t get picked up in the States. Much better than cole slaw.
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Coleslaw! With fish & chips! Sacrilege and desecration!
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It’s not bad, it’s just that mushy peas are so much better.
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Ooooo that looks so good, Bart. I bet you enjoyed! Have fun! 🥰
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I surely did. Thanks, Kirsten!
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“(My second dinner of fish & chips in four days in Scotland. That’s reasonable, right?)” – get ’em while you can, Bart!
Frind Wendy’s fish supper poem….
Small things
Sitting in a van
in the rain
watching the sea foam
through misting windows,
*
pulling open paper wrapping
the appetising smell
smacks us in the face
as waves slap on the beach
*
herring gull stands
sideways on, one eyed
one-legged, thinking
of chips, waiting
*
bite through the crispy fried
outer layer into hot soft potato
satisfied chewing and munching
snug in the dry warm cab
*
breathing, steaming, eating
staring into blurry horizon
through steady play of rain
splashing on the screen
*
tip tap tapping on the roof
trickling down the gulleys
mouths and fingers full of chips
delighting in this.
Wendy Alford October 2012
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That’s good work from Ms. Alford. I especially liked the “smacks us in the face / as waves slap on the beach”
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Wend…writes well…very well…she’s the Wonder-Wend!
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Simply wonderful (and delicious)!
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Grazie, Luisa! It was delizioso.
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You’re so welcome, Bartholomew 🙏
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totally reasonable
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Good, because it won’t be my last.
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wow looks so tasty
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Oh, it was!
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I don’t blame you one bit, so delicious!
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So far I’m at five fish & chips over 12 days.
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They are hard to resist.
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