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