The worms whispered the equation
    Moss memory grew longer;
A muffled cuckoo clock sounded in the distance
    Brass sunlight polishes the grass.
The daffodils remembered, then wilted; tulips swayed
    In municipal chains
     And said nothing.

Earth juice moves through a straw.

Somebody told them the time.
    Climbed into their dandelion bed
Warm as yellow custard
    And red telephone boxes.
Little survivors, Hiroshima coloured
    Time travellers.
Like gold leaf scraped from the wings

    Of fallen cherubim.
Grass tousled, promiscuous, peroxided.
    Forbidden in the Garden
For poor timekeeping,
    Their lack of birth control.

Fatherless, they struggle on bombsites,
    Living on ginger beer and revelations,
Waiting for their inheritance,

    Dream of the speaking clock,
Pale afternoon tea on polite lawns. They will die like
    English martyrs, bare-necked,
Stretching towards paradise.
    Someone said blow,
And we did.