Spicy Saturday Overlooking Canterbury After the Long-Lost Hair in Wind on a Borrow Bike
It’s peaking starburst suns
Mellow yellow eyeflap glow
Is all this from gowing slow?
Sure, I want you here, but
That small sop is mine, one
little plop on English grass;
I’m not home, it’s Holy Sat
66 and Bromst, was it
Something I ate?
