Things we looked at with the satellite spy cam

We observed the basketball court
where I used to play football.
There was a boy playing keepy-uppy.
We zoomed in on this sentence in a newspaper:
"I woke up cold with fear.
We looked at a Parisian roundabout.
We watched penguins migrate.
We watched an oil rig.
We did our Heat bit:
Mariah Carey sunbathing in Biarritz,
her breasts slipping off her chest,
melting like sandcastles in the tide.
We talked passionately about drip castles
and I said they made me think of Gormenghast
and he said they reminded him of a church
he had visited in Munich.
With the spy cam switched
off we drew pictures
of our dream tree houses.
Mine had a biscuit tin
full of garibaldi and bourbon
that was nailed to a protruding knag.
My friend who has a name
but I respect his privacy
said I always though that those lumps
on the sides of trees were like tumours.
"You nailed a biscuit tin to a tumour, he said.