When I found your photograph on the floor
I wrote a poem about it
My sister says, pick up all those photos
Where have they come from?
I say,I don’t know
Maybe I knocked down a folder
I am clumsy
I write two more poems while she feeds me Belgian apple tarts
She tells me how she fell over in a dark field in Germany
Her foot went into a hole
There were no lights
They both fell down so she had hysterics
I only had one glass of wine!
She laughed all the way back to the campsite
And then she fell into laughing so much
I could hear her here in London
So I got hysterics as well
That’s genes for you!
I’m still laughing,
They came here on their bicycles
Not dead yet
That’s their trip before Brexit
You never know whether they will start to kill Britons for messing up the entire Continent
BTW I am incontinent
How my heart sings 