Nature is a burning tyre. The lonely crowd stabs fingernails at screens. In a bowtie of bins, the city denies its own. Clatter clatter, buses chatter. Babies dressed as men. Pints all round, the sound of drowning. No rats abandon ship. Call it in before the game, the betting is the end. Ka-ching ka-ching the bells do ring. Cash in while you can. Hastag Untag! Twitter twitter twat. Divided on tube trains, the salad eaters melt under neon. What truths are these to brick a window or burn a statue down? Behold the beaming darkness. You are not the God of Yourself, no, nor of your brother neither. The bowler hats are dead. Seek only Russian Umbrellas! Sing up! For you are free and your desolation is exalted. The baker's baked a billion pies and now's the time for eating. Wrap up your dreams in yellow lycra and google your way home. The barcode reader reads itself. Beep beep! No hope, no fear, no end. The rest is never silent.  (John E Vistic)