Chancers fill up the street,
Pinstriped lapels and buffed up polished feet,
Swilling out in vodka streams,
The smell of gold perks up their nose,
Linguistic weasels with caffeine lined easels,
Concrete bones made the landscape surreal.
Muddied posture with the crack of dawn,
Closed down the lighthouse where posterity was born,
With a horn and a chimney,
The sun bursts through,
Seen out of x-ray specs,
Everything became brand new.
Subtle mauve earrings,
Overplaying drones out with cosmetics,
Enhanced heads with papier mache prostetics,
Handing back waste,
Bludgeoned love letters,
Tattooed on teeth in the name of taste.
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