To an Englishman
Stephan
An ancient giant – (full) head down to earth
Feet are still and quiet – Asian tapestry
Is your trousers, your colours, your grid
Sitting in sensation – breathing steadiness
Even though your eye’s miasmic
Your letters hardly haha homes of infidelity
An ancient god – you swear to your swing
But it’s not that
Which makes you dance?
A Sheepish Thing
Comes up, lingers on your
Cheek, Charlie – chow-ciao chances
To unchanged deviance, mark
Make me insomniac by not counting
Nature by numbers