Since the day that I was born. I’ve been a sweet princess.
But why can’t I wear baggy clothes and not this stupid dress?
And why must I eat fancy food on fancy royal trips?
I don’t want stuff I can’t pronounce, I just want chips!
Pierre my French chef’s favourite dish is slimy,“Snail Surprise.”
The French surprises that I need are greasy yellow fries.
“But that's not really princess food. N'est pas?” he always quips.
I don’t want snails upon my plate, I just want chips!
Last night my parents entertained a foreign King and Queen,
For which I pulled the sweetest face the world had ever seen,
Until I ate Gazpacho soup with silly little sips,
I don’t want soup served freezing cold, I just want chips!
All I ever want to do is stuff my freckly face,
Instead of counting calories in Slow Grilled Lemon Plaice.
With every single bite I take, my bad mood drops and dips,
I don’t want fish served on its own, I just want chips!
I must go to a chippie where real people stop and eat,
Pile on the salt and vinegar, add ketchup for a treat.
I’d pick my little chip fork up and start to lick my lips,
I don’t want dreams that won’t come true. I just want chips!
What is this paper bundle that is stained in yellow grease?
My butler’s smuggled golden treasure past the food police.
I won’t care when I’m older and have wibbly wobbly hips,
I’ve got the food that I desire, I’m eating chips!
And they’re lovely!
Poem ©2012 Alex Craggs
Image ©2012 Sam Zuppardi
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