The sun is an angry limpet
It spreads streamers over my summerhouse.
Her hair is like steel pins
I climb up it.
She is a paper doll and falls limp at my feet.
I caress the vacant look in her eyes.
She is a neurotic dragonfly
and a fluttering elephant crying tears of glass.
In the bathroom, an anteater is making love
to the plughole.
He crumbles like cornflakes.
This morning I spread my toast with butterfly larvae,
the effects are beginning to show.
My teeth are replaced by pieces of liver.
A gentle breeze is sweeping over the valley,
and riffling my eyelashes.
I am moulting beechleaves.
Your eyes rock on their stalks.
The vicar has brought the communion wine,
His right nipple is showing.