Angry type casts litter the roads
Of I scratch your back as your
lipstick Covered Hand mimes
To the Apprehension script writers
Cornered on the decimalised driving range
Where lots of hogs have been tried at this
House piano and bars emptied of regret.
There’s plenty of Time to dare others
As you Reconsider the casting
and now you can see the world
From insular of dependance.
As I wear a hole in my shoe tapping out
The night with Semaphore flamingos
That made me Drop a feather.
And make the gates as I can’t forget
morning Register and roll call.