gold striped Fukushima prawns.

Watching the Evolution of caber tossing technique 

French etiquette you left behind closed doors 

alone after the dark in a argument of welded cage 

girls Dancing in powder painted cloak rooms

Eating gold leafed Fukushima prawns 

above where there could been another chalked horse

Occultist of salt dryed Cure the zoological society 

The art of rolling a decent sushi roll 

leafs picked up on long distance walk

Same plane as eighty four Relaxed as we coast to coast 

across the ural clouds we sailed past great bears 

On which to rest at night 

as sampled engines roar at altitude lido

full of misplaced attitudes towards days

Marching up and out of a till ringing town 

as there’s always a case load of cooled Pelicans stacked

away from a corseted brief With a name blanked out

and a travel stamp here and a fishing rod left there for you.