Change is brewing, brewing, brewing in this half-baked 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. Guess there's 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?
collage postcard by D.Kolpak
dverse poets pub poetry prompt: Make Mine a Double Dipper!