The smoke that rose
It's grey to orange bloom
Throwing ash to the air
Bugs dance like ghosts with
Burning bodies darting while
Posing the threat of eating what
Happens to be the flesh on which they land
Pulsing as it was in London
All that now matters is housed
We peak through the windows
Thunderous fog rolls along the harbour
Gutters running over stocked by
Spilt beer and glitter
A girl who lost her shoe unaware
She's leaving her friends to drag
Half-crawling to the stadium
Combing lawns for misplaced cigarettes
Snapping food into her belly
Three more times the bell shouts
And even the sky of fire
Has found it's way off the streets