17 JUNE 1989, Page 32

Signs

They tell some sort of story.

We've left behind BEWARE OF THE DOG In suburbia, On our way to the LEISURE D IVE Past the roadworks

(SLOW MEN WANKING)

Then along narrow lanes With their PISSING PLACES And up onto the moor Where we scan DANGER UNEXPLODED BUM S.

No one may set foot here In the land of the long barrows And the Beaker Folk, Though the grouse and meadow pipits, Stepping nonchalantly, Survive literacy.

R. N. Allan