A mockery of insects
There is a love which checks the alarm is on
The enemy fries bacon and it smells like ours
I ask you to picture waves as an army
If possible I would like to be born
We build walls but never higher than they need be
It’s unlikely but crying is not impossible
I’m focussing on the quaint idea of love
This Helen, is she a looker?
Slut is fine
When policeman look younger, old people differentiate
Like sheep upon the fold
Nothing more than a wooden table, slightly bloody
Certain lights are angry
We need more ways to waste our time
Wheelchair
The last time I counted, there was just me
Listen to a white van grumbling
Today we have the naming of ports, beginning Le Havre
I think of the word “Honfleur”
Age ten, today we choose parents
Fustercluck
As she leaves in soft darkness
The difference between perfume and Eau de Toilette
I don’t even make “minor”
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