Chipping in to Conversation

Chipsanity

So, I had an idea. There it is, a hand stamped chip fork brandishing the very http:// that you are reading from right at this moment. I wanted to publicise 'Conversations with Margate', and by implication the voices archived within it. Conversations in Margate are often had over fish and chips, followed by greasy lip smacking silences. Like many seaside towns, it is part of Margate's heritage and for some visitors and inhabitants, unashamedly, part of the attraction. It seemed only sensible, well - vaguely sensible, to acquire 1000 fish and chip forks and individually stamp them with a custom made rubber stamp. Chip forks, as seen above, will be distributed soon, keep your eyes peeled. You saw it here first, or maybe, just maybe dear (new, unknown and welcome) reader, you saw the chip fork first. 

Chipping in

Forkful of salted, vinegar-ed chips

Small hands stab and prong, lick lips

Day spent flitting to and from sea

Architects of castles, soon debris

Forkful of salted, vinegar-ed chips

Two mothers, weary, hands on hips

Hurl words from shore to sea:

"Come on you - dinner's ready!"

Forkful of salted, vinegar-ed chips

Edged two, companied, heart skips

Legs dangle: invisible else, visible sea

Crumple papers. "Old romantic" said she. 

Forkful of salted, vinegar-ed chips

Ageing two ladies, still dare, toe dips

Meander back to shore from sea

Dinner from newspaper, speaks an old story

Forkful of salted, vinegar-ed chips

Stooped gent, Sunday best, greasy lips

Perched on plaque-d bench, facing sea

'For Eva, here, content she was to be.'