Lounging for Lizards

Leaning from my window in the dusty rooms

I hear the cry of joy in the nearby cafe

Drinks on the table, serving waitress smiles and wages

Music spilling in every direction as it rages

From poorly concealed speakers

Dank expressionless commuter wrecks

Trying to hide from the noise, adjusting their specs

Delaying their departure from the monster City

Leering at young office women trying to look pretty

Newspapers soaking up the stale beer

Hanging from the edge of the mock oak table

Strange how photographs merge in wet newspapers

A horse jumps over Cyril Smith advertising leather sofas.

Leaving the window to gape at the night

I return to the dusty room, I imagine a newspaper without print

Not wanting a drink I finish off a can of lager

I wade out into the warm night air

I lounged in the lobby of some run down old hotel

Cursing the musical notes flying passed my ear

The musak guaranteed to annoy to prevent relaxation

I spoke to two lizards lounging therein

Who grinned impassively, they left without a sound

The musak peeled off my remaining peacefulness

Wrought iron action was needed, but I threw up.

A lively party wreaked of pitter patter talk

To which high principled brows balk

Take a book full of favourite areas of attack

Obscure authors were a delicacy

Strange how unknown phrases and ideas

Suddenly become significant

After four glasses of wine

After hours of tedium

In the shape of pretentious pen pushing

The hilarious stories were confetti

But the shallow drift of conversation

Is worth defeating

I’m here to have a good time.