Poem: ‘The Lettuce’
Maurice Riordan, 19 October 1995
I gave the barrow-girl two quid for it, a frisée lettuce, a wild intricate wheel, nature’s very own bright-green mandala. A lot of money but I paid up gladly, even though at that time, anxious and overtired, I parted most weeks from something: my bike hitched to a loose strut; then gloves, umbrella, wallet, cards, glasses – all left on the train. I came to think of it as...