An hour by the cut.


 
 
No narrow boats,
yes to Thatcher boxes,
dead foxes
and flies,
the drones of the stone age.
 
Walsall as chipper,
as a new spring hat,
a pint of beer,
a dead lamb,
for all art,
the human heart.
 
Time to go said Zebedee,
through the rectangular window.

 

 
~