A kind of teenagery sick-bucket love poem with a stalkerish twist.
Written in conjunction with Lisa – feel free to blame her.

I don’t know if I told you,
I love you loads,
large loads,
the sort that needs a sign
and a police escort on narrow roads,
train loads,
heavy duty container loads,
filled with hopes and dreams,
like a football field
full of fifteen amateur league teams,
more than an ant colony loves honey,
more than a greedy banker loves his money,
more than wasps love Coca Cola,
(and that’s a lot, especially in Summer),
oceans of love,
tons of love,
A rewritten plot where Bambi’s mum comes back from the dead love.
Like I said, I don’t know if I told you.