Short poems, Uncategorized

Retro festival

Retro festival


Retro festival all mod con rockers donning fine dress beyond old ions of scones and military ear phones.

The smell bakes a thousand hearts home to kingdoms of ancient thrones.

Dancing rock songs like jiggly jangling bags of bones trying to find a hip swinging, tail wagging drunk route home.

Fake bobby’s all plastic nobbys acting fat round like crime’s just a hobby.

Blue suede shoes, lots of booze, icons, pinups, braces and Elvis too.


Ā© G.P Williamson 2018


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