Woolworth

A pyramid of composition apples

Sprouting early cloth forsythia,

And a wavy clipped festoon

From the manes of plastic witches,

Watches with no works, snakes

Of rubber (to go with the apples)

And never forget to commemorate

Lent with heaps of oviparous

Fun.

Now weary shopgirls rub

Their ankles under tinsel trees

While the blunt syringe of noise

Jabs endlessly injecting

Jingle bells, and a hundred

Plaster angels blow their horns for sale.