Drone

The light cracked and fell away

you spelt your rage with a token gesture of

flickered semaphore, disguising a potent hunger

for chemical dressed in polythene bags.

Against all the odds we are winners in the bin,

the cone draws laughter yet I wear it like a crown

it reminds me that upside down

I would make a serviceable pin.

And the din draws quiet, the ruptured ambiance

decorated with requests to stop the music.