My weighted basket
is a stoutly woven
wicker affair, arch
handle stiff to hand.
The nation's basket
holds supermarket shelves
in its lidless recess;
hauliers, factory farms,
jovial hatless actuaries -
the decimal remnamts
of nuclear families,
their wages average
by gender, their houses
mortgaged on lease.
My accessorised basket
is better, as befits
the consumer talents
of a pound-pinked man.
Lifestyle wordsmiths
disagree: it needs
a coordinated cloth
to cap it, they tell me,
a time-limited choice
of single-colour swatches
on sale in May.
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