THICK, BROWN POEMS #9

ODE TO EPPING PLAZA

I work in a town where death goes to cry,

dogs learn to fuck,

and thieves learn to lie.

It’s a sight for fresh eyes,

as the kid who just shat his pants

waves goodbye.

He’ll never taste true love,

unless its defrosted in a Four ‘n’ Twenty pie.

Cash in your chips.

Get out while you can.

You will still be free,

though forever,

less the man.

Grow some wings,

and learn how to sing.

Cause’ all they play is top 40…

in Epping.

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