Palmer, Dr.W. Fourteen people,
Four of them his babies
With a finger dipped in jam
And strychnine. Hobbies:
Bloodstock breeding, grief.
A penchant for fancy waistcoats
And brilliantine. The sort of thing
The BBC do rather well,
The bobbled blinds drawn down,
The reading of the will.

Electric Chair, The, murderers
And redemption. A slit of light
Above the door, and a sweat-stained letter.
I hope you’re feeling better,
I bought a polka-dot dress today
It sure is hot. Patrols
The long white corridors,
Rigid arms outstretched and belt agape;
Orphaned robot of efficiency
And family values.

Apocalypse, Four Horsepersons of the.,
Unsightly in appearance, no face
Bony arms etc. Famine presently
Sub judice, accused by a child’s eyes,
Hobbies, stalking, bit parts
In ‘B’ movies, inspiring pity

And Charity balls. Images appear
With toast in Sunday papers,
Usually acquitted by their judges
As natural disasters.

You. Various schools. Mysterious medals
Which you sold. Thirteen years
Of knowing the ends of each other’s
Sentences and joking about books called
‘Potato Breeding in Bolivia’. Mainly
By neglect and smothering
Slight movements of the heart.
Hobbies: Cycling away from it all,
Feminist politics, polite enquiries after my health;
Old postcard tricks.

Western Capitalism, the triumph of.,
A bird. Name and place of birth
Unknown, but m. for life
Almost certainly a puffin. Many TV appearances,
Shrouded in a gown of oil,
Inappropriate as sequins.
The one animate eye
Seeks murderer on the knife thin line
Between sky and sea, for certainty
And the vanishing point.