He went to sleep in the polling day cockpit
thinking look at me I'm newsworthy. I sent
a message to Athens - say Hello to the Gods -
but there was nobody to carry it due to the riots.
Firebombs, noise & tear-gas : nothing polymorphous
would happen overnight. My brand of champagne
socialism was changing : scallops for the workers,
asparagus for the cleaners. When they asked
of my alcohol I thought units were what formed
dense urban connurbations - the country as nothing
more than colour-coded stacks of trains & warehouses.
Intensive Care replaced as a polling booth. Let Greece burn,
all is pending Sunderland South