Just as we said as we plunged in the river,as we fell out the pub when we filled up our liver.The green Thames on my skin,Earth on my feet to grow in. Dear boy, sad, sweet boy,will you ever fly again,with complete detachment. You lay like Guliver,You dream with the giant tortises,you cry like seals,oceans in your eyes.Climbing to the river bank a christning shawl or green moss on my quivering skinny white man.