Leaning from my window in the dusty rooms
I hear the cry of joy in the nearby cafe
Drinks on the table, serving waitress smiles and wages
Music spilling in every direction as it rages
From poorly concealed speakers
Dank expressionless commuter wrecks
Trying to hide from the noise, adjusting their specs
Delaying their departure from the monster City
Leering at young office women trying to look pretty
Newspapers soaking up the stale beer 
Hanging from the edge of the mock oak table
Strange how photographs merge in wet newspapers
A horse jumps over Cyril Smith advertising leather sofas.

Leaving the window to gape at the night
I return to the dusty room, I imagine a newspaper without print
Not wanting a drink I finish off a can of lager
I wade out into the warm night air
I lounged in the lobby of some run down old hotel
Cursing the musical notes flying passed my ear
The musak guaranteed to annoy to prevent relaxation
I spoke to two lizards lounging therein
Who grinned impassively, they left without a sound
The musak peeled off my remaining peacefulness
Wrought iron action was needed, but I threw up.

A lively party wreaked of pitter patter talk
To which high principled brows balk
Take a book full of favourite areas of attack
Obscure authors were a delicacy
Strange how unknown phrases and ideas
Suddenly become significant
After four glasses of wine
After hours of tedium
In the shape of pretentious pen pushing
The hilarious stories were confetti
But the shallow drift of conversation 
Is worth defeating
I’m here to have a good time.