cromagnon
faced
dim
breed
women
crawl from chip oil kitchens
deep
in
their
council brick long-hives
toothy
and
chinless
and
small as children
or
swollen as water balloons
to
moan a dawn chorus
of powerless witches
all
self-centred half-thought drivel
and
imagined
personal
slights
and too theres war-old men
endlessly justifying
their
lack
of
personal wealth
and
belching tales of the half-decent motors
they drove thru a sepia youth
or
young and feral and bad haired
phone-glued urban yokels
sons
of
stumbling painted
supervisor mothers
coughing
excuses
into
portable
phones
loud and dull
like
delay-announcements
of
helpless misery
all of them
all too willing
to
bark
ALL their problems out for you / at you !
if
you
make eye contact
or
mumble MORNING
or
move away
too
slow
from crywalt.com
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