Finding your voice in a bin Losing an oat in your face Having the nerve to go Hurting the food supply Being manhandled Up the narrow stairs Feet catching in railings In an awkward manner Tie to the side Your jacket-flaps fan me I'll text you and I'll text you 'Til the morning light A heart full of gloves A handful of tape This never was Your environment Burning the price-tag In a plan of sorts Your wings are hot but stuck In the eyes of a dog you love Under the receiver Ability beckons Don't do it now Or act like a zoo A canny young thing With feelers out for dregs The sponge drains the cup The froth fills the mop Put your face out to dry Peg it up with the shirts Choose an attaché case And a shiny new suit Be a cranberry Parsifal Feta cappuccino melt Be a pencil lover Take up that mug