FUCKTOWNS BELLY

day has opened its windows
and
pulled
the
nights
walls down 

melted them into water

water is on the lawn with long shadows
and
is
cried
over
the
cool
cars
in shining baubles - run into rivers 
over bonnets and bumpers
as the workers fire their pistons
and
move into gear

the sky is uniform grey
like a used dish rag
or
gods
sick
turned
back
in a garbage shirt old as time

the day has rotten teeth
men
in
hi-vis
drill the cavities out
their
machines
echo
off
quiet bungalow walls

fucktowns belly bellows van motors
and mutters outside the paper shop
subdued sirens creep thru trimmed bushes

urgent but no too urgent

fucktowns belly
belches
like deep currents out in the brown river

fucktown eating us with its rotten teeth
eating
our
high street wanders
and
drs appointments
our estate agent window perusals 

deep in fucktowns belly 
it mashes us up 
into
tonights
new
adobe 
walls

from lawnsmith.co.uk