The sky's a warbling jukebox whose clawed antennae,
pierce the urban fog with bird like catcalls.
Watchful eye of heaven to the sleeper.
Arise, arise, ring in the morning rush.
Vivacious weekend dawn has yet to peak.
Visible stirrings  of a zestful  age defiant,
span on ice, cluster and clan.
Grey haired elders broken nap.
Chalk mark to a staunch twilight zeal.
Wakeful youth awash with boisterous equal vim.
Each has its own trademark gadget,
Gadgets pop out of ears.
Footwear on crazy paving.
Splintered death trap for the unsuspecting limb.
Circus vouchers idly skim the curb of every sidewalk.
Litter bin intended target - litter lout shoot to miss,
shoot to mess.
Supermarket rendez-vous or lonely hearts club link.
Shopping baskets brimming over.
Bumper to bumper,
static queues inch by inch crawl.
Town square bazaar in exotic pose.    
Fiery whiffs of Bombay set the tongue alight.
Market stall maverick with secret  incense,
as counterpoint to intrigue.
Highly seasoned Bap on spit.            
Pumpkin seed encrusted -  reeks of sesame oil.
Greeting card chatter fueled by fate or chance encounter.
Capers over coffee.
Bogus  laughter drowned in  boom of roaring traffic.
Finger licking Lindt D'or Mesdames, 
Messieurs.  Chocolate flake on napkin.
Afterthought of cream noisette.
Saturday pulse rates peak and trough,
to the groove of  eighties Prince a.k.a the Purple One.
Rhythmic  backdrop to Main Street reverie.
Vortex of a spiralling timeline giddy with impulse.
Bank holiday high jinks, bonhomie, brouhaha.
Bye-gone era small town coming out of coma.
An atlas speck, that yet to be hub

Year: 
2024
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