From spaceships of harmony

Into the fires of Hell

Mouldy undertaking no more

 

A trodden mind, angry in the Nut Bar

I need more than seven words, please

 

Neil Young – grim and grizzled –

Summoned by starship –

Says he can’t go because of his terrible I.B.S.

 

Drinking tears to dry up the well, pointless

Advertising tissues then.

 

She wasn’t always fifty –

Fairy tales are evil

As are Spaghetti Westerns

End with a bittersweet blend of good and grim

The Instagram stress, fruits of the dead heroes.

 

There is no way out from Blue Well Wood,

For still I search…

Sometimes the driver speaks.