TURNER’S EYES:
A powerful hit of vanilla in heels pushes through crowds,
rushing to get to Wonderland. Women do their eyes, heads
nodding on rocking trains, clutching fairytale snails,
cat hats in sparkle dancing shoes. Grandmothers hands protect
the innocent, gentle smile repel danger, witnessed everywhere.
A fringed sued book curls behind the ankle of a skinny Black jean,
listening to wires, looking distant through Turner’s eyes.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
I like that picture, Karl. Depending on how you look at it, those poles look like giant cigarette butts, or else there’s a miniature gas pump sitting in a normal sized ashtray.
The pump that’s not working, every motorists frustration.