Single and sectioned walking with the braded blonde haired guardian; Grace, in the gardens of Psych ward.

Karren is circling around us counting steps.

Would you exchange your hair with mine I ask her.

I would she says, if I could.

I’d buy a wig of your hair if you’re selling.

I think the long pink haired Beth wants to marry me hair.

John too, which is in fact john two of the ward

Over the phone I see your colleague go;

Hahahaha the CT scanner.

And John one here is asking but why are you clever?

I’ve told him that was his last why,

Now he can only ask how,

And there’s a science too it.

He said: innit?

I’m wearing my new glasses and you are wearing a new pair too.

I see you go shush.

I see you say I call you later.

My heart sinks to the groends in the garden.

But before I put the telephone down,

The ringing starts again.

Hello, when will you get home? I say.

you say okay, and then it starts the up play.

Alone, a thousands miles away,

I’m sat by the telephone.

But I think Key,

And who knows the meaning of that is ‘when’?

Today I played football and wrapped myself in silky triggers in blue and the telephone chord in red.

It was a sunny day and I sat with.

I promissed Carol the OT, to drag her through milleniums in my godly mission.

On the football ground we sat while she absorbed all the light I reflected and talked,

About Ginsberg and his ‘negro streets’ and dieties in general effectively.

Alo!