The Life Auction

Row upon row

Of drab colourless houses

Bowing low

Before high rise blocks

Varicosed housewives

With sweaty armpits

Scrimping and scrubbing

Their husbands' socks

A limp polluted flag

Flutters sadly in its death throes

While crippled trees in leg irons

Wearily haul themselves

Through another diluted acid day.

The Auction

(Cousins/Lambert)

The vultures stood outside the gate

Quite unaware that fate

Is never kind to those who wait

In vain. Their pride

Betrays the means of their destruction.

Take my rings and trinkets bright

But leave my eyes which give me light

My tongue which gives me leave to speak

The rest is yours and welcome.

The wolves will suck the bones they bought

Those over which they fought

Their elders always having taught

Them envy. Their greed

Explains their total lack of conscience.

The auctioneer is seldom lost

Our paths have sometimes crossed

But he has never failed to count the cost

Of passion. Desire

Is the whole point of his existence.

Now you have given cause to bleed

You join the wolf pack as you feed

But now you find yourself in need

Of comfort. But peace of mind

Has no home for the loveless.