wooden sideboard rubbish pens a note of grievance to his tory MP - 'no thank you ma'am' and bins it in a sunshine waste bin full of thousands of words and tissues. canaries, yellow, leaping and thrushing and songing until their lungs give out and they sail like ships to the concrete floor hot in the summer sun incing like a spider around the room along the floor tiptoeing like a tiger on a pen nib tickle him under the chin down on the lane but he shan't be a monster just for you, nor the rainbow a colour fiend parrot