A rocket is lifted off the ground,
gazing faces astounded
at the booming sound
which roars and roars and roars.
Pounding, pounding from the start
the beat comes through as part
of that deadbeat cart
rolling on and on and on.
You should do this – you should do that
do not wander near a lone black cat
leave the mouse and rat
alone because they aren’t real.
Whatever you do best follow me
straight up the money tree
away from bad things and you’ll see
I am always and forever right.
Buying this and buying that,
the top ten off the album list,
hot commodities never miss
not comfort but conformity.
To do and be the latest thing,
head off on a super binge,
it’s time I start questioning
the idea that I belong here.
1980s
Anne's mediocre poetry 