 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
|
| |
|
ZOO GARDENS
|
|
I
|
| |
It isn't Kew you know, though
abundant. A new plant called
Elbow/Arms crushing me on the
pavement at Wall. I kick back,
shouting for 'some'. For it to appear
to caress; to surface quietly.
|
|
2
|
| |
On the port is Fred he
has plenty,
a dance with a mate: rather tight
suited, overcoated,
metal in armourready
to go
beserk in dealings on New York.
Honorary men in black, courting them.
|
|
3
|
| |
Groping, faltering, longinghard
at it. A collection of people lock
themselves in Sea Horses.
An escape is planned by the
jetty on Swan Lane. Chaucer visits,
a perfectly understood event.
|
|
4
|
| |
Colours fill the gloom of Monday.
At Bank, rivalries clash
in little Europe towards Cripplegate.
Milton, unmoved,
contacts Erasmus in Parissurprised
by the response, offering to talk.
|
|
5
|
| |
Agents arrive to experiment. In
a confused state, we introduce Euros.
'Do you require wine, sir?' Our
appetite increases,
with this talk of contract, history,
'a little something for the people'.
|
|
|
|
|
|
