My Aunt's Teaspoon Remembered Everything Except Why the Moon Smelt of Vinegar

The Vicar's Favourite Lighthouse Was Arrested for Selling Plastic Thunder

Every Corridor Leads Eventually to the Place Where the Kettle First Dreamed of Electricity

The Sound of Wet Concrete Reading Romantic Poetry to a Small Collection of Alarm Clocks

The Department of Unfinished Picnics Has Mislaid Another Small Moon

The Grinning King Accidentally Posted His Eyebrows to the Ministry of Unclaimed Echoes

There Is a Small Brass Band Living Quietly Beneath the Carpet Tiles

The Gentleman Who Folded Tuesday into a Brown Paper Bag Behind the Municipal Swimming Baths

Pocket skies and paper boats

The ghost you'll always be