In the pet shop, a chinchilla expires with aplomb.
A little puff of vapour exits her chest
and rises through the mesh of the cage,
before slewing apart as it hits the ceiling fan.
In the tobacconists, Gerald models
the latest cigar - a smoke so potent
it makes your eyeballs grow hair.
He inhales; his irises vanish beneath bristles.
And in the window of second-hand bookshop,
sun-blanched spines unpeel from old paperbacks,
pages come ungummed; brown age spots
join together to spell a new ending.