LA-LA Land

In La-La land
The poet said
The men sell snow
And then they're dead
The Women laugh and cry and bleed
And live the image not the deed
The passions flow, the leopards fight
The girls sell favours in the night

Madelaine, young and vain
Was blinded by the acid rain
Ennobled Jack, the dealers card
Was cut down on the track
Tears of warm, wet, wasted blood,
Fell from her empty eyes
On to his mottled back

A Lamboughini roars
As mad dogs bark
In the hovels of the dispossessed

Atlas, too tired to shrug
Stumbles, and nearly drops the world
Setting off tsunami, snuffing
Out meagre peasant fires
And the songs of the bathers
Even the Silver Surfer slips
Beneath the waves