Tint pan frame.

A hundred humming penny sweets 

to a hand bag but not enough 

Conjurers to work out the cost 

Debating who’s in who’s who.
Of a very public dance down a lane 

with a pen it tranced out the unbalance

to serenade maps as vocal renditions 

frame by frame.
it strived to change the world 

The Snap shoot as photogenic as the 

was the rusting mechanism stuck 

Contracted and struck on it’s tin 

pan birth too the right.
Big top mountain place Bee a bop 

and erect a tent on a mountain top 

left of my face.