Saturday, 30 October 2010

The Clown of Tinseltown

The plaster cracked
And the paper torn
Shop your pimp
Your puppeteer
Neon strips
And flickering lights
Underneath the sky
Bleeds city soul
The pavement slopes
And the tarmac rots
Where the roots emerge
So bare
So many lost souls
Passed here and paused
En route to the stars
With wide eyes blind

The fanfares sound
The trumpets blare
And the reddest carpets
You choose your vice
To pursue your dream
In a barbed wire bale
At rest
The wastrel song
Slurred in chemical voice
Builds crescendo
On the streets
No Tin Pan paradise
Tetanus Boulevard
A canvas roof
Your shroud

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