A Sniffing Nod

busThe sniffing bus

was sniffing late,

my oyster card

was past its date.

My pockets spewed

the change I’d begged.

I slammed it down

on the drivers ledge.

He took off roaring

I stumbled ‘n’ fell

This sniffing day

is going to hell.

I picked myself up

and found the seat.

This one came with

something to eat.

A kebabs carcass

adorned the cloth.

The tomato tempting

but I swept it off.

Onto the floor

it bumped

and rolled

Next stop;

the street of Old.

Hoxton bonnets,

fixie bikes,

twitter feeds

and facebook likes.

GPS your every move,

some location that

we all approve.

Post a photo

of your sniffing lunch.

Grated ice on

your sniffing punch.

I feel empty,

I wonder why.

My sniffing soul

just kissed the sky.

 

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12 responses to “A Sniffing Nod

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