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.