The Greenwich Foot Tunnel Is closed until further notice Due to severe flooding Please use alternative routes read the sign as Sandrine-Sandrine approached the slope

On the platform at Island Gardens Sandrena-Sandrena was writing a poem It was called First Class Hieronymus Suddenly a man kissed her on the cheek

I saw this morning A Blackbird chasing a Kite I had always suspected The cruelty of colour    

I swam near the wooden bridge Hardly breaking the surface My lack of effort Was witnessed by the other campers As they sipped their Rose

The boy with the hollow eyes Lit an oil lamp And stared at his reflection In the teaspoon That had been placed in front of

  Socialist in Furs   Socialist in Furs Was the working title Of my poem But I changed it When I discovered That you were

You are sitting at my typewriter typing a letter to me You have removed your shirt and your breasts are punctuating I do not care

On the 6th of June 1612 the Philippe Virginie set off on her voyage of discovery. She had been at sea for one year and

How sweet you smell as you piss in this wood of bluebells But I am not fooled as I know that winter will soon be

Thou wishes me on a dungheap wrapped in silks belonging liquefying slowly     attributed  to Amos Derrikk (1566-1649)