There are people in the shop today
Buying milk
And scratching,
There are bags on the street
Cruising gutters
And birds shi tting above
On the people and the bags,
Angry cars spew fumes
That mix with the scent of sausage rolls
From bakeries of wobbly people
And a man plays the spoons
On his pocket of tobacco
And oily denim,
A baby sucking milky stars
Rides his designer buggy
Swathed in gingham
Bewitched
By the rainbow
That grows from the roof
Of the Apple shop
Where anxious people
with broken phones
Seek contracts.
The spoons pause
For a smoke,
A young couple in pastel
Swap saliva and hopes,
Facebook friends
And vodka,
A man in adidas sucks the fat
From a kebab,
A plane stripes the sky
Packed with hedonists and spirits,
I slide my aviators
To the bridge of my nose
Suck raindrops through gum disease,
Head home.
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