In the richness of your secret folds

It was a red herring

for Simon Furey

The Samoan

Two old scholars
Argue about the casual sex
They may or may not have shared
As adolescents.
Their frenzied disputes
Are hopeful fantasies
Of memory.
They apply, fail to apply, apply, fail to apply
The scientific method,
While their public defloration
Is stripped from the calendar.
In this land of no today
The Polynesian gifts exchanged
Are a wave of particles on the sand.
Flightless birds run into a yesterday that did not happen
And the bones of the elders
Will burn down a tomorrow
That will never come.

A festive apparition of Our Lady of Roswell (NW1)

Oh please come at once to the nursery, sir

The children are playing with something that looks like a dog and is not a dog

At the flesh kinematograph

The Pest Anatomized