Alan Dixon, 7 March 1996
Know them by their machines, Machines of visiting friends, As they want to be known. Not beautiful, I think, But elegant, I suppose, She speaks if what I wear Respects her neighbourhood.
My wellingtons and spade Make me invisible; Having no shiny shell I take to camouflage. Sometimes card-backs displayed Like polished teeth show me How popular they must be.
Outside her house I see A slouchy...