Yellow

Full of dragging ideas, like clouds
Yoda weeps in the tin locker room
Like you, he can’t make any moves

Snow White is in the car park
Peering through a greasy window
Watching crack heads eating Weiner Schnitzels

Dreadful pop bands are taking over the world
Dracula has grown a moustache
Torsos of the departed quietly float through rooms

There’s nothing better than a bee on a pink flower

This morning a bottle of bright yellow shampoo
Actually told me to ‘Get with the programme’