Poezja

Detached, loosed, struck off on The Strand,
Dubstep Hubcap rolling and tumbling cross the land,
losing the race with th car what shedya,
spinning, turning, trundlin’ so graceful long th Strand,
scatterinya blessin’s all the way from Lhasa
past piers of fish, ashphalt avenues, iron-mongers,
ale-mongers, monks, friends – you Holy dish -
set alight the street you did,
set alight the Strand.

“Stuck behind a rubbish-collection-bus”
‘Don’t you mean a dustcart?’
Trash wagon, a flash flagon of flim-flam filth -
OVERTOOK the hubcap,
gazed directly into the Heart of the whirling Blessing Deity.
Dubstep hubcap of spinning spontaneity