I
Business centre. The television is
on. Somebody has a headache.
Aircraft leaflet the area,
Margaret Thatcher is on the radio.
A bank manager addresses rotary.
Someone sets fire to the kitchen.
Sit then perfectly still and be
kissed.
2
John, or Nanki-Poo
dedicated to that certainty which
disappeared with miners and
Handel’s requiem in Old Trafalgar
at Christmas.
Rise then Metroland although
the warmth is that
of unkept places at Euston.
3
Property values rise steadily
in the background: foreign investors
at Luton-sur-Mer.
The Greek was dejected that day
and went the whole hog at auction
in memory of his mother, an
illegitimate Mitford.
4
Blessings on the Harvest Festival.
I shall contribute an onion.
Or sponsor the cricket team to
advertise my undertakings on their
flannels in deo excelsis so
something is tasteful in
suburbia. Where I Am.
5
Hitler and Stalin are the names
of the dogs that roam our streets
after dark. Purchased from
a friend, whose sister has a
brother whose sister is the
receptionist at the business
centre in England.