Infamous poet and scrubber, Lucy Lovebird lounged in a doorway.
She surveyed the street with expert, jaded eye. A sordid scene:
Nail bars, cheap retail, junk yards and betting shops
Don’t speak! Live action reboot better than half price!
We’re all in bits, she thought: air of opulent decay, everybody welcome.
She remembered that blue-eyed girl on the Northern Line
Would you like to be my coco-pop?
Now, there’s a thought.

And you get a stunning, action-packed Lady in Red at the weekends.
Grab-a-dude, get a life, free your inner direction, say investigators.
Shadowy figure on the other side diamond white pick of the bunch,
His and/or her cool retro look numbs the pain right here for you;
Not quite as good as Zara’s new Dixie Whopper.
Find any conditions anywhere any time anything goes,
The crumbling façade has a certain charm thought Lucy, yet
My anguish and emotional hunger overwhelm my living flesh.


Infamous poet and slapper, Lulu Topknot slouched at a café table.
She heard the voice: you have a duty to dream, we are your dreams.
This place is a cool dump, a displacement zone;
Easy come, easy go, blazing standout, twenty-four hour service!
Cummin’ up! Bellowed Madge, for no particular reason.
She remembered that photocopy fax beauty at the back of the bus
Would you like to be my party invitation?
Now, there’s a thought.

And you get a vision: snappy withdrawal, pick of the bunch.
Glance out of the window – what did she see?
Streets ahead friendly crowd perhaps neo-hypo-no-fiesta.
Distant mad samba music, another curious incident;
Destination explosive, workshops, offices open wide,
Filthy table top, a first step in the dark.
A candle-lit rendezvous has a certain charm, thought Lulu, yet
We have a duty to dream, you are my dream. Thank you, ‘bye.

AC Evans

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