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Come into this parlour of the rural gentry where heat dust
and sweat

Mingle merge mobilise or migrate but for heavens' sake
Move

The Village Fair the smell could it be that Mets got it done

Swarms of Humanity children perched on shoulders

Women buying selling trinkets

The not so Giant solar driven Wheel stops Batteries need
charging

Barefoot entrepreneurs hardselling insurance

The camels worried and restless away from homestead
now

Contemplate another

Been trying to fathom your thoughts follow this Blog since

Does not make sense

Sorry sir just a minute

The thought processes get tangled

Yes and now

Your Street Muse struck with fits

And the drought of imageries in this Wastelands of the
Destitute

Was conceived to thrive on making no sense rambling its
way

Into PCs guaranteed to negate unnerve Striving to bring

Attention The Eyeballs get tired

Street Poetry defies the Culture Vultures

Blurring the neon messiahs the ozone speculators

Try parking your self

live mingle mix with the rural cognescenti its underbelly

Let it Spawn a hundred thousand words of drivel

The poor the old the infirm

The ugliness of want needs necessities

Its Driving Force and

Inspired ny Insecurity and Penury

Street Poetry visualised handpicked to Change

the Compradors' Dreams unto

Nightmares

Meaningless ramblings of Barefoot Poet Laureates

Try skimmed poetry for a change

Instant Karma beckons the Fools of Enterprise

To risk Agony

Disenchantmentprevails amongst the Much Educated

Worried eyebrows peering the monitors

The Micro Wave Heroes cooking their staple diet

Nano warriors breaking the code

Confusion prevails

Inclement Change threatens

Come into the Casino

Get into Overdrive

The Citadel beckons

Greetings on this morn

Ramblings of a barefoot literate

Replacing the Daily Rag and your Cuppa

Thank Heavens It is Street Poetry and not

The Vedic Hymn