OCEAN SPRAY

the Ocean Spray cordial
and
the extravagantly virgin olive oil
sit still
and
RIGHT
on
the 
black worktop of faint white cat tracks
and
the charity shop biscuit jar with weird tea in
is
very CORRECT

i notice this 
while 
the buzzes and tickles of electric ants
jab and tease
painted flames onto the hatchback on my arm 

it all seems to be in order today

the atoms are not misplaced/not at all
and
there is no hot urge to tidy 
inefficiently
in a useless scram rush 
just to cheat some quiet moments of peace
between the
hiss
and 
blam
of white noise and monsters

yesterday it was chaos and wild/everything WRONG
everything
needed - REALIGNING . . . 

but
now
i
can
sigh
and listen to the needle thrum and drone and smile
at
the
Ocean Spray cordial bottle and its dead red inch
past
the
use by date