ALL THE STREETS ARE EMPTY:

There was a lady who lived in a Purple house,
Not lilac,
Or Lavender,
But Purple,

The Curtains were Purple,
The carpets were Purple,
Even her hair had a Purple tinge,

There was a woman dressed in Black,
All Black,
Pulling a bag on wheels,
Blue as a pale Autumn sky,
I think she was a Goth in a previous life,
(If you know what I mean),
She talked to the air around her as she walked through town,

There was a woman covered in Silver bees,
Laughing hands in the pockets of her skin tight jeans,
Who wiped sleep from her eyes,
As she walked away weird,
Like her feet wanted to move fast,
But the world in front of her was moving too slow,

There was a big man balancing on a small chair,
Holding a tiny machine,
Sipping Black stuff from a Black cup,
In a Black cap,
A fashion car crash,

“What?”
He said,
“Seven?”
As he climbed into heels,
Beard like a mountain man

(K)