On a Leaflet I Saw

Holidays that last a lifetime

Litigate their flaws.

They change your beds with cockroach nests

And irrigate your doors,

Grow turnips from your shoulder blades

And over-prune your scalp;

Wash all your limbs in vinegar,

Drown you in pepper talc.

They give you roots and watch your reach

Your fingers up the sky.

When you call for delivery vans

They brush your skin to make you cry.

They turn your forehead into bark,

Your lashes into petals dark,

Your children, lay them by the sea,

And sell your lungs for tourist tea.

They lock away your happy fruits

Along with all your walking boots,

And two or three with company pens

Stamp down your skull in the soft soil fens.