As a bee lands on a lily
and a toothpick slits some gums,
the height of hillocks increase like unhurried lungs
and climbers clip to cliffs umbilically.
Foxes on leads snarling uninvitingly,
but still unbitingly,
and we’ve got a special powder
to remove the toughest stains
from all of our chains,
oh, they really sparkle.
Broth burps bubbles above a flame.
As nurses relieve fevers with cold towels
and tourists hide money in their shoes,
the face of a kitten is printed on a pack of tissues,
and tractors corrode from their own chemicals.
Prosthetic smiles shining inhumanely,
we nod its-a-shamely,
then continue to comment on the intricacy
of the clock’s hands,
oh, the trembling romance.
The wheels on the bus go round and around.
As shelves of biscuits are re-stacked
and bags of bones patter in the rain,
eggs hatch like heads crashing through window panes
and siblings argue over maths.
We’ve had enough of that.