Cliff tells us of the unseen Blitz buttoned into the city’s trousers. As chambers, ports, libraries crumbled like cake, felled dragons bellowing smoke, silence in the bedrooms.
They wheelbarrowed him in, all limbs droozing over the sides like glops of ginger honey. Gangly like a half-spider, he breathed softly, barely needed sedating.
So this one's a Valentine to those who crave neatness/ It's understandable! Sometimes a cure seems delicious. Much cleaner than regulating a spot of indulgence with a dam explosion of loans