In Cathedral Close I find a gift shop
it draws me, lovelier than the cobbles
sunnier than stone.
On display are soft toys
chaste as clouds.
I grab a cow with big squeaky udders
squeeze it into a parcel
and lick a dozen stamps.
You wish I could mail myself
I have thought about contortions
but I can hear you crow loudly
yanking a teat
after the postman rattles away
missing some spokes off his bike.