This is Nuts

Change is brewing, brewing, brewing
in this urban jumble
where the wavy gravy
of Cool Britannia melts
as a dastardly mash of tyrant wannabes
bellow half-baked
Economic Crunch theories
at one another while eating 
a late night snack
of hypocrite pie in the back seat 
of bullet proof chariots
with a coffee coffee buzzbuzzbuzz chaser
to keep their peckers up up up
while the world burns burns burns.

Is there nothing to do but raise 
a glass of urban bourbon and say: 
“Goodbye yellow brick road.
It's been fun but I have no ruby slippers
to get us home to Miz Jelena’s sweet potato pie?”
Nothing to do but watch 
our sugar plum dreams go up in smoke?
Nothing to do but dance, dance, dance, 
spun senseless by the mad fiddler’s tune
while we try try try to imagine, whirled,
peace and a different tomorrow?

dverse poets pub poetry prompt: Make Mine a Double Dipper!