And now I’m late

I wandered  lonely in a crowd
That wars all night  so untranquil
When in a trance, I saw  heads bowed
And march   on these green, rabid  bills

Confused by the stairs  we climbed
I saw an escalator bend
Then two mechanics  served their time
I pressed the bell and did descend

I heard my brother on the phone
I don’t know how he turned it on
His favourite phrase was : oh, don’t moan!
The kettle boiled, the  liar  has come

At the  bottom of my blog
It tells Old Pests to press right here.
Then will we hit them with  a log
Before we steal their dark brown beer?

He asked me if I’d love to hate
And envy Wilfred Bion’s gun
But I prefer to  have a date
Although they make my bowels run

Fantastically ghosts  sit here
And look upon the sky refined
They have no bodies, do not fear
They are real but undefined

So I lay down and felt my love
My man, my mate, my inspired date
Flutter o’er me like a dove
I fell asleep and now I’m late