I love sitting in Shoreham
Always sitting in Shoreham
In this airless bus
Shifting decorum
In memoriam of Boredom
On the grey-faced street
Where the old people eat
The daily mail
And lick on icecream
Their grey heads bobbing in the winds like vultures
Sitting in Shoreham
On this endless street
With the
slow moving
never ending
Grey blending
Traffic and buses
Which move like put-down animals
Lacerated and chopped
And spat into plastic bags
And fed to the locals
Who are nothing more than grey heads and teeth
Mouths washed in meat
I love sitting in Shoreham
