Not knowing what to wear,
I hoover in my knickers.
According to the clock it is three minutes to one. The second hand
nervously takes a step forward then a step back. I wonder where
Michael is. Maybe he’s still sitting by a broken drain, sniffing used
bathwater. I am curious as to what he can deduce, this
connoisseur of bubbles; satisfying his desire for the overflow, he is
safe, loving you only through your waste.
Yoko Ono’s Snails
I can’t believe it!
Yoko Ono collected snails.
I know I have my own snails
but I’m still jealous -
hers are Japanese snails
and mine are English.