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For Janet, I Know Where She Is Now It's all over now, no more wondering if I'll bump into her Every time I walk through the town centre. In the early days I would look at each face expecting to see her smile,

Forget what you think you know about elbows and wrists

I've just seen a camel Who did? I did In the middle of Brixton are you sure

and that obnoxiously plastic bag rolls and races artistically across the lawn, pretentiously trying to keep up with the Jones' Japanese water garden next door. Somewhere amongst the shrubs Robert's football rests next to an egg

a poem about me and my camel

Up, past sleep, we have found ourselves existing somewhere we do not. Heads make pillows of other things, shoulders and intimate conversations. Nothing is fixed, walls fall away, time slips to the floor. Here

But how do she choose which paths to paruse. Whichever tricks or fashions take her fancy but windy they are when we're lost we feel so far from the point which hindges the bits of fragmented thought which alone feels uncaught from the rest of the head.

"I wanna be a porn star "Is that a statement or a fact, I mean, do you really wanna be one? "Well, I have a big cock; my arse is damm sexy, why not? I love sex!

You returned from 'working late' again, Smelling of a scent you never use.