There’s a rumour going round that street

Pushing past their little destinies

 

Caught short Shakespear relieved himself against the corn sheaves

The fox startled bit the leg of the harvest jigger

 

The painting has little time to dry, as poets' pens begin.

To take down a street of music, blended to new worlds of rhyme.

 

Underneath the moon

The rabbit did not stop drinking whiskey

Next to the traffic lights

 

As the words fall into place

Flesh savaged and stripped

Fox moves to the city

Ship sailed, giggling while the sea engulfed me.