As lamé kitsch with visors reflecting visuals

pulling down on their low rise etch free glass

devouring aural historonic tonic shell pills of

jingle jungle rides on the cold rubber steel 

of crutch controlled seventies two speed

Within a white horse revelation of Uv light

Searching for diction as currency 

Exchanging images and stitches silver 

the public peach dressing down 

as the makeshift hospitalise sponsors 

find they made a series of short cake Calls 

to Talent show nouns

whilst the trees lay across towpaths

as radio rarities play within the fallen woods 

As potted black seven is disrupted

And you can see by the cut of their cloth

to the victors go the spilt coffee ground.
As we sit and listen to pink slip Cats that joust it out 

Over the size of imported key lime largeness 

Of a fruit label war which was never stop.
In the make believe world called manufractionist 

a spelling bee dances to the phonetic beauty 

Of a gob stopper Found within its chromatic wired jaws 

As red curtains are drawn back Fortune found 

on its stud laden tongue.