Your biscuit needs you!

Your crumby exterior requires

   the shadiest corners of the disco.

At the zoo, fading between bars.

Do prawns spawn?

The aspidistra, the asprin’s sister,

   I met them all at your salon:

   don’t blame me for hell.

Alain Delon mops his own forehead –

   surely this is the crime of the

   century!

Go – you fuck like a character

   from Cocteau, all gin and tonic

   and white underwear.

I know no dentist is innocent;

   there’s sugar on the landing

   from promiscuous donuts.

What is a landing? Why?

I have a vision of Akubras …

Of pelicans nesting in chapels …

The sty is falling, the pigs are

   listening to Dvorak, oh!

I have climbed the steps of

   Moravia, they have not stepped

   for me.