down the cobbled streets

like fur

once gaudy

like a ferret’s cage

generally the crumbs from breakfast

brave the marmalade jar


heat, noise

clouds of coal dust

half-naked kneeling man


do not change your linen

a frill of shepherds and pigmen

tea out of the same snuff tin


sticks by you to the grave

lower upper middle

world-wide gesture of distaste

Jack London was

bitterness overflows

tea is pagan

pretty pretty

with wisp of shame


before fascism plays its trump card

the beehive state is here

heresy hunt