B1113

I'm constantly
looking over
my shoulder into
the mirrors of
public toilets
while the
cubicle doors
are half open
they call it
paranoia
I call it fucking
stupid
a glare
into the eyes
of a stranger
not giving
an inch either way
that's how we move today
desperately weary of society
& society's children
the air is seasoned
with cheap cologne
& petrol emissions
there's nothing nice
about it never mind romantic
this is cryptic
everything
is knitted
upon patches
of grey
a perverted tearaway
viewing education
as two goalposts
no netting
what's the betting
that judgement
is faraway
anyway another
sample taken
this alien environment
has taken it's toll...