HEY !

  hey gone friends -
wine fields 
dry thatch 
left behind
  for 
  new indie youth and goth mp3s
  hippying off the concrete grid
  to
  their VU rediscovery -
    now
    OUR
    growed-up collar has bunkered / buckled under disease . . .
remember
when 
the  
  dealers phone box was a derelict pagoda ?
remember
the
  morning meat bus and puked-on suede
  that 
  stank
  out the hangover beans in KFC ?
and 
all
the backpacks of stolen government hemp
  stashed fruitless in backroom lockers
  when
  the
  mall was our day-place of business and escape ?
remember when
any
greenhouse / caravan / copse between the A roads
  was
  a
small town opium den - the valium at faster-miles-an-hour
  off-road
by the bonfire hole ?
    remember ?
    the
    moon was almost perfect
    every night 
    and the clouds van Gogh paintings
    unreal
    at
    dawn
    when the birds spoke words
    we
    all
    understood

     from the huffingtonpost.com