Bid me, and your Sally Joe,
above all sense of multiple weeds...

How many bodies doth one count?
More the merry body's kind...

Leisurely she wanders
tiptoeing, gallivanting and...

My teacher said it was the 'great Art';
sausage-fingered and gravy gargoyled...

Found gutted on a lonely cobbled street,
Fastened with blood and soil was...

Pretty girls, pretty boys,
mingle by the firelight...

Run your tongue across the moulded
apron feeling, bitter slime...

I heard she'd travelled to Cumbria and swam across...
I heard she visited Scotland next, then Yorkshire...

Balancing appearance drifts,
One face to another lifts...

Call upon the martins and the swallows wild,
And let them soar the air like an heiress child...

Such trauma,
how one can become consumed by invisibility...

Eggshell eyes are scooping next to browsing crowds
Of helium-attached nausea problems from seventh...