Come to Sunny Prestatyn

Laughed the girl on the poster,

Kneeling up on the sand

In tautened white satin.

Behind her, a hunk of coast, a

Hotel with palms

Seemed to expand from her thighs and

Spread breast-lifting arms.

She was slapped up one day in March.

A couple of weeks, and her face

Was snaggle-toothed and boss-eyed;

Huge tits and a fissured crotch

Were scored well in, and the space

Between her legs held scrawls

That set her fairly astride

A tuberous cock and balls

Autographed Titch Thomas, while

Someone had used a knife

Or something to stab right through

The moustached lips of her smile.

She was too good for this life.

Very soon, a great transverse tear

Left only a hand and some blue.

Now Fight Cancer is there.