The left give up

Bent over s-d-r-a-w-k-c-a-b

Short of straight answers

Facts are foiled,
used up scratch cards 

Voting records 

line top shelves -
Adult magazines
for the few [not the many]

So many still buy bright
from the bottom.

Billie Holiday is
drowned out
by a low exhaust
She sounds desperate & drained
My legs are heavy
stuck to the floor
I don't feel like doing
anything noteworthy
Because if I try
I'll be by her side.

These days,
I see many photos of
launderettes
I don't know what each
represents.

Perhaps hope for a rare kind
of co-operation

Swindon Bus Station

Swindon bus station,

Everyone fixed to their screens

Mine out of battery

The patchy street birds 
have a tiresome industry

Looking for anything to digest,

other than old amber leaf

In front of me, I pitch a family
 from a war torn Country, 

I wonder about their future

The wave of support oily politicians
get in writing them off,  
Sticking the needle in their life raft 

The little one is crying,
but occasionally a beaming sunshine

His brother has learnt to
 rearrange his hat, rock the pram,
while the Mother contemplates her carousel

Her garments are not very well co ordinated
but smart and colourful in their own right. 

The little one kicks off his blanket,
his pyjamas are Disney.

Perhaps he'll get there one day. 
Until then, Swindon Bus station.

. 

Dying Butterflies

I've never felt a warm gun on an empty stomach.

1

A rising lantern for desperate folks.

Paling handprints on boarded up windows 

D-Day for state supporters, a ring of racists

A wet dream for editors of gothic script papers

Years back, they started this.

2

Mowing down vital information, warning signs

Sugar-coated truth for the partially blind

Progression is rarely weighed up in traffic jams,

Campaigners binge watch enlightening programmes,

none of which institutionalise a compromise of freedom?

1 + 2

Falling for Westminster

Every night, the news at 10 -

Stomach simmers, dying butterflies

We are delivered a spent rhetoric. A loop.

Sample these dying butterflies.

Suits say they have a monopoly over our intentions...

Why. Do. They. Keep. Lying?