Listening to the evening
 Through the bottle neck
Of opened window and window sill
 I hear the rolling waves of distant,
And not too, dual carriageway traffic.
The drone of insect aircraft
Far above in the orange black city sky.

My fridge throbs in a nineteen fifties invented beat.
My two clocks chase each others ticking, 
I don’t have their metabolism
I just dig their synchronicity, 
Cycle racing on an indoor circuit,
I the only spectator in this empty arena,
Echoes chasing echoes

I see the UFO light float across the sky
No noise yet
Then confirmed of its terrestrial buzz
I return to record this thought
At half past seven on a Wednesday evening
Above all the above if you listen real well
You can just hear the million chanting 
TV sets going
Daa Daa Da Da Da Da, 
Daa Daa Da Da Da Da, 
Da Da Da Daa Da Da Da, 
Da Da Da Da, Da Da DA Daaa
Before the scripts kick in
And is lost in the above din