There – a loathly ghost over
Buxted’s grades – a horror –
foul wafts off an unwashed
[ill-scented by its psychotic
confusions] – Laggy uphill –
between shadowed fillings
[light restores it – eidolon] –
& a nausea’s bile rises [still
that effect] – cold cruelty is
left in its bent blades wake –
On a stone [in St Margaret’s
overgrown yard] it says of a
body – & she will sleep with
our Lord – but not yet – Wait
until her spirit has returned
& unrighteous men bedded
first – wait for her hauntings