i went to them and said, dont drink our poison please. someone does the dirty job of forensic, and we can go and gawp and throw up. now i am a spectator, observing the lives of others. its turned into a sick parade, a well mapped out adventure where we can stick to the tracks, recommended restaurants and polite gestures. a two word language we employ, with plump tummy and walking money. Tasty treat, smog-filled lungs and a smile returned. Hairstyles and smiles. And who can mention the eco-war? No one knows about that in plastic paradise. We are saturated in stray animals having a ball and mountains of fried food.
So I returned to the new world. The 'saviour' state. Gloomy, unifored and unaware. My money vanished. Immediately greeted by sniffer dogs. Winter clothes, no battery..snappy. Cold in every sense, with smigens of sun and carbon footprint. A smudged shadow, leaking flesh, flesh puddle. I'm back here and I paid £12.50 for that. Never noticed how sad you were, a flu voice all desperate. I -leech all the way home. Those ones are still humans. Its like going from technicolour back to black and white.
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