Where are the words?
If you should see them sometime… running helter-skelter home from the playground, or lounging languid in a cocktail bar, or buying plain underwear in a department store, or trying a fountain pen out for size… spritzing their inner wrist with foul celebrity scent, or rolling a Cuban cigar in a brothel.
If you should see the words anywhere… be they pell-melling down the cobbles, or booze-cruising the channel, conducting an inquiry, or holding up a red card. If you see them kicking a ball, wearing a yellow jersey, sashaying, or sashimi ing, sozzling or any damn thing.
If you should see the words, my words, anywhere; then send them on home to me.
I miss them you see, and I know they are just out there, somewhere. Just that little bit out of reach.