The maintenance man who appears every night, to clean out our ears, then vanish from site. He takes the wax home contained in a jar, and gradually builds up a sculpture bizarre.
Guts was a cat, a very special cat with a pickle in her pockets and an onion for a hat. Barks like a dog, prickles when she purrs but her most peculiar habit is to shed her skin and fur.
There was an old man on our road who hated children, preferred the weather nice and cold to keep the chill in. Then slowly he began to change, into a softy…
There’s a man who lives at the end of my street, who absolutely no one ever hopes to meet. With pockets so big and dripping wet, how on earth did they ever like that get?
Sally played around with every boy in town, I called her a tart and she just tore my heart apart, I knew it was soon over, with me and this pavlova, she could not defrost but it’s better to have loved and lost.