I’ve had it with this town.
I’ve lived everywhere –
Downtown Legs, the Belly,
Heart Street, Brain Freeway.
I should move across the river
to where calm angels hang out
their pastel silks on staves
at dawn; and the council is funded
by a pure air of forgetfulness.
Mum has a cafe there –
gospel singers and sausage
rolls for free. Everything works
like dandelion seeds,
and the only rhinoceros
is the one you dress as.