Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

Peal the bells
let the sponge tower chime
and keep them ringing
it's not quite time
once we are clad in civvies
and all the family's out on the road
we can discuss our next move
beyond Oxford Town
people emerge from being curled
for miles on end in the boot
all the places to see
it growls within me
mothers in baby carriages
and push-chairs finally engage
with history, church
and garlands of print
crowd my brain
I watch my die-hards
blossom heavily in the orchard
I cannot keep up
with the rush of thoughts
sleep still catches at my throat
like castle gates
everything geared to car park
thousands trudge the paths
into the historic town centre
to marvel ideas of towers
lawns, colleges
pretty acceptable figures
cram the guides' tours
yet we get the best
I dribble as I fall back asleep
nod off between quips
she follows my every move
be it facial muscle, eyebrow
or sleight of hand
with slow and stupid dog's eyes
I pull back from each drop
a thousand feet
at the edge each time
there is nothing here but past
memories static in hedges
let us roll on
back to the land of dreams
where this topsy-turvy lives out
its unlivable adventures
let us climb sponge tower
and watch ourselves
clamber back aboard the car
shut the truck full of cousins
and depart for the streets of Fez
thronged with trees and people
let us depart
for this limboland is turning my stomach
and black smoke billows
above the roofs

Vienna