Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes

Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes:

A Poem About The Great British Seaside

I pulled into a ravaged street

strewn with sacks of littered dreams

and policemen lay so fast asleep

as traffic flowed past hooded thieves.

The rays burned hard on suntanned arm

that hung outside my limousine

and girls would saunter down the path

in skirts that length was gauged obscene.

My shades were dark, I looked the part

I cranked the sound of heavy beats

and summer sun would make me sweat 

as I cruised into another street.

And people stopped, I did not care

I pushed the limo in spite of their

glares that strained a disbelief

I shaped my hand and motioned grief.

They scurried past , I laughed aloud

and turned the limo on the crowd.

But now I cruised the boulevard

its palm decked lines of disregard.

The beats that pumped as people stared

that shook the car and buzzed the air,

and women ran in jogging pants

with cheeks that squeezed beneath the hem.

I carried on down to where the slots

and lights would flash and bring them in.

I passed the rows of drunken sops

whose kids were left to run amok

and chase the sounds of grab machines

stuffing coins in plush filled dreams,

high on floss and candy rock

and sugar stains on summer frocks.

And tattooed man would cross the road

eyes on me he tried to goad

I squeezed the gas and edged on near

as bass was pumped his eyes showed fear.

And Whitney stood and smiled at me

her man was weak and I was king

but girls can come and usually go

the limo seats are where they show.

Fake Las Vegas bars and dreams

and seaside towns are hardened things

I push the limo further on

into the world where I belong

by Pete Marshall

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image courtesy creative commons flikr 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lordspudz/