let’s tip the fridge into this tupperware
& translocate into the camper van
whose little swinging forest-glade dalek
air freshener & fine dope-head paint job
featuring Gong plus brass-section Clangers
urge us on to sample new sensations
& rearrange the mistranslated stars
before their final privatisation
these days it’s best to take your own cosplay
shepherdess & lunch to avoid tricky
misunderstandings & mine are tangled
up with more street furniture than she can
shake a crook at the tongue-tied predictions
of Nosferatu never do come true
so where is all this going going gone
proceeding to the movement of the blown
& occupied white poplar whispering
some indistinct responses in the mid-
June winds of change in which it orchestrates
the voices of the sky by night & day
when perky finches don’t have time to stop
& listen to the press releases while
I stretch in some sun-flooded piazza
& see her slowly turning in a room
frescoed by Pinturicchio & still
smiles in awe & wondering forever