After the Christmas Tree, Pine Needles

On the table

On the chair

In the hallway


In the cupboards, in the dishes,

In the tanks with burbling fishes,

In my hairbrush, in my knickers,

Stuck on mucky yucky stickers,

Hiding in the food we eat,

Trailing halfway down the street,

On the tube trains, on the bus,

They’re following, they’re watching us.

A crowd of them! It’s mass migration!

Bent on global domination!

However much you hoover them

You never will remover them.






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