Autumn Fayre Poem by Stephen Brian Brady

at the Arts and Crafts Fayre
one stall stripped bare
had nothing on at all

across the hall from the refreshments room
it could be seen
inbetween the hanging- quilts and raffia mats

and there he sat
tea-cup rattling on plate
an octodegenerate
eyes fixed on those long smooth legs
he lingered at the dregs

then from his pursed lips
the semblance of a sigh
there was that taste now bitter-sweet
and he can't remember why