Leeds station. Cherries, Anchors, Dollars Keeping his eyes busy whilst his fingers slip it titbits. but then Just some lights
I sit across from the arcade
watching departure boards scrawl orange destinations
pass the time.
Cherries, Anchors, Dollars
Cherries, Anchors, Dollars
loose change
Slut machine
tarted up
taking in
gobbling down
what a generous lover.
I never did hear the sound
of floorwards falling coins.
No rattle of gratitude in this beggar’s empty tray.
some fruity music
and then nothing.
An empty conjurer of dirty tricks
