Saturday, January 22, 2005

Rabble babble

The grey men stare out at the sun
Through the smoking glass
Going down the tube again
The sky is blue and I am too
I never knew the world was built on sand:
Coarse grain reality

The glass is broken
Grey men shine
Closedown in a tough town
Dot on the TV is all I know:
Karma coma

Streetsmart kids
They burn their souls
Blasting down the ghettoes of your mind
With their sounds.
A jogging suit
Suits me fine.


Martin Locock, 1982
Printed in Ampersand 1 (1982)

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