a well-spent ninepence

was all it took

to leave a headscarfed mother

in some chattering queue

for luncheon meat

or lardy cake

and step inside the transport

taking us

to Planet Zog

Or Dead Man’s canyon

via Keystone or some cartoon city

where,

fortified with Mojos

and Mambo juice

in strange shaped cartons

we’d jostle for the back r...

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