Friday 3rd March



A ragged rubble of sound,
Fake stone,
Smoke expelled from lips blows in this direction,
White auto-tuned cat sniffing the ozone,
Waits by the wall for scraps from passing tourists,
Looking cute,

African Queen sings through holes in tight black jeans,
Leans back into the sixties,
Dipping fingers into olive paste,

Cruising girls watched by boys,
Sat in the doorways of shops that don’t take cards,
Sister twins,
Stare in curious,
Boy arrives,
Behind a winged letter ‘B’,

Fashion is laughing,
Making up it’s own rules,

Writing nothing to no one,
Getting up to something,
Keeping secrets,

You exhaust me,
You are leaving,
Under my skin,

Listening to TINARIWEN


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