wrapped in vested polar,
Costa coffee cup for 50
pence of sympathy, face
frail with her skull the only
armchair she affords and
the march of globalized
Britons, the sons and
daughters of the last
aristocracy.. the re-
furbished cobble survivors
of God-knows-eternity-
for-the-sake-of-Saint-
Peter is her only television
set and no one plans to steal
it because it's far too big to
carry off.