The beech tree is green again Stuart has told me about this In his letter written in a crimson hue I live next to an oval beach Where things are yellow and blue

The beach is orange once again Muriel has told me about this In her letter written on lavender paper I live in the deep countryside Where most things are quite green  

A low sun was flooding my garden red And I was found hiding in a cherry tree That was just over six years ago and counting As I have been in prison ever since awaiting trial My crime was that I stole a crimson garland From the setting sun as it prepared for its night…

Cunts and Motherfuckers seem to hold the positions of power And that cannot be right said St Paul in his fan letter to me We have to find a solution and find it quickly I replied Very well he said I will order another crate of black angels And three crates of white angels with…

I found myself on the Plage des Femmes Which as I expected was full of women It was a beautiful feeling to be a woman On this sandy beach in the Gospel de Ville   But then in the distance I saw a train Heading toward the Station of the Beaches The train was blue…

Alice and Murray Live in the Cute House She/Her He/Him Life is not that straightforward As Alice and Murray never holiday together But it works very well for them As they miss each other dreadfully When they are away from the Cute House    

My friend and I were sitting in a café in Lagos next to a middle aged couple from the Ukraine At first we politely ignored each other and then the man asked if we would take a photograph of them He spoke good English as he had lived in the USA for a while before…

Love Story (Knife)  My sister  My beautiful sister Once told me a story About a woman Who lived in a rough neighbourhood And kept a knife under her pillow For protection As time passed she became attracted To the knife And slowly they fell in love But they kept their relationship secret As such unions…

Dover Companion  In my dream I was carrying you on my back around the streets of Dover With only your golden hair exposed As I walked I was describing what I saw But you were asleep and did not answer me On a couple of occasions I stumbled as the pavements were uneven I felt…

Silver Kettle  I can see the reflections of your years Fading as I count them one by one There is now a secrecy within you Which you will not share   Hungarian Journey In my dream I was travelling to a football match in Hungary I was chatting to some of the rival supporters Who…