Straight Lines
Through the golden causeway gutter,
loaded up with placid green,
drips of pearl drop splintered sunbeams,
heaven sparks its sent ice cream.
Hell-ta-skelter, sun arranger,
devils hid in newsprint call,
North-West London, licks the skyline,
acrid breath and sputum gall.
Diss-connecting, straight line madness,
close your eyes, its runway maps,
tunnel vision, destination,
glaze those streaking horror snaps.
See the distant arch of Wembley,
Roundwood cemeteries still,
just another passing vista,
just another grassy hill.
Under bridge and flying over,
serpent jams of shotgun law,
ram the streets to overflowing,
kill the passion, slam the door.
Turn out Friday, weekend niches,
lost in freedoms make believes,
earth-salt teachers, glowing nurses,
speckled children, hearts on sleeves.
Back-a-yard to sixty-seven,
scarce a traffic spilt brocade,
looking to the days end sorely,
grieve another era slayed.
Through the golden causeway gutter,
loaded up with placid green,
drips of pearl drop splintered sunbeams,
heaven sparks its sent ice cream.
Hell-ta-skelter, sun arranger,
devils hid in newsprint call,
North-West London, licks the skyline,
acrid breath and sputum gall.
Diss-connecting, straight line madness,
close your eyes, its runway maps,
tunnel vision, destination,
glaze those streaking horror snaps.
See the distant arch of Wembley,
Roundwood cemeteries still,
just another passing vista,
just another grassy hill.
Under bridge and flying over,
serpent jams of shotgun law,
ram the streets to overflowing,
kill the passion, slam the door.
Turn out Friday, weekend niches,
lost in freedoms make believes,
earth-salt teachers, glowing nurses,
speckled children, hearts on sleeves.
Back-a-yard to sixty-seven,
scarce a traffic spilt brocade,
looking to the days end sorely,
grieve another era slayed.

