This Is Not Just A Jam Sandwich; It’s An M&S Jam Sandwich Poem by C Richard Miles

And here it is: the latest in sophistication,
The M&S jam sandwich, has arrived.
Luxuriate as it titillates your elated tastebuds
And emancipates out-dated emotions long pent up;

Reminiscences of innocence condense as senses
Of after-school pre-teatime treats resurface.
Seductively doughy bitesized white slices
Entice, at a price, if you’re stealthily, selfishly wealthy
To indulge in unhealthy self-satisfaction.

The fatal attraction of ersatz jam is supplied
Disguised unsurprisingly unappetisingly as you
Are taken back again by the fake packaging
To memories you’d tried to exorcise of yesteryear.

Without fear you may bathe, unallayed in banality
As the artificiality of our pre-packed product
Panders understandably to your dumbness, numbness, glumness
With a tranche of E-numbers and additives.

How sad it is that we are forced to do for you
What once a child of nine or ten could do:
Unsubtly grab or nab a couple of slabs of bread
Instead from side of the mother’s pride loaf, love,
Then don’t fear, dear, smear it with gobs of best butter,
Without rancour, we’ll thank you not to use Anchor,
Or cost-cutting, gut-rotting, Utterly Butterly,
Or if you’re keen to be mean, cheap margarine.
Lastly, you wallop a dollop of strawberry jam on,
As much as you can cram on, to taste.

Waste not, want not; remember what gran said.
Regardless of if it’s rancid, wolf the lot down
Far too quick now till you’re quite sick now.
Wonder at the senselessness that Marks and Spencer’s have
Provided for you at great expense
In this fast-food frenzy of plenty for the over-twenties.

Health and safety directive interventions
Prevent us mentioning our final intention
To make our finest sandwich complete on the shelf:
The besmirching, grubby urchin schoolkid fingerprints,
As you squash the sandwich, you must add yourself.