The Rat Burrows, The Machine Spins

“In the heart of the machine beats the drum of oncoming traffic.”

On the shop floor:

Taxis as a tribe

Deal-brokers in a choke hold

Feeling your way through the crowd

Sitting pretty on a nest egg

Wires delineate a trick or two

Squeeze up to me for a nibble of cheese ‘n’ wine

The barred will wear golden cuffs

Clipped and slapped to the lord of the land

Fitted up with snap-bangles

In a vacuum no man is an island

Unless sucked into a conspiracy

Where you disbelieve yourself

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: