Prisoners of Bore (and other songs about the economy of the Dutch)

Pinkish Gertrude
hovers, mothlike, by a neon bar light
attracting policemen

The doctor waves his fees goodbye
on the gravy train
that with whistles and all manner of trumpetry
seases to make sense

internet pop tarts
rasberry flavour
stick their tongues out
and waggle them about a bit
yours for just $15.99 a minute
peek rates.

Hussle and Bussle
Toil and Trouble
the human broth of commuters
nod their once bowler-hatted craniums
at the grotesquery gargolyans who guard
their stations.
That aren't going anywhere.

Amid the middle of a bus queue
there's the number 28
left behind as it only goes to Doncaster
and no one likes Doncaster.

Persecuted peeping-thomases hide behind
their curtains observing the throngs of unwell-wishers
through a crack pipe haze of indifference
and a smokescreen of anti-cigarette campaigning.

Bernard feeling mauve and nasal
in the small hours
counts his chickens before their hatched
and knows there'll be eggs for breakfast.

Cuckholded school ma'ams in tweed blazered nightmares
toss and turn in duvet cocoons
aware of time yet not biding it for a second
or a third.
It's all been too much and the day's yet to begin.
Properly.

Enraged cyclists, Maureen and Deidre
Mundane, clipped and ready for nothing
pedal their wares furiously
and furiously wear pedals
without ever once asking the return address.

and Postmen, for, in the end, tis they who define us
dance spectacular in an early dawnlight majesty
of drizzle rain dogs.
Carrying their sacks under their eyes
lacking foundation
or any make-up, come to that.

The wary retailer
who retaliates against what you wear
with such anxious energy
he can't be bothered anymore

Tabloid's devoid of thought
yet destroyed and annoyed
many thoughts simply by
not printing them in time.

Unreality Television
a gameshow for the nonchalant
a festival for the incompetant
a grey monolithic totem to apathy
and a celebration of all that's tedious
without ever once resorting to
mindful antics or rotund dreams.
Like that of a cereal fanatic or colbolt enthusiast.

Drab, the oppotuinity
when it presents itself.
seizure of the moment.
Gather up thy rose tinted trousers
while yea may or maybe not.
the 101 things we probably should avoid
before we cry for more sandwiches.

When all is said and done,
what's there left to say or do?