Baby London

The skyline steadily ascends

As the margin decreases

And profits continue to soar

One down

The beanstalk climber

Has a lucky escape

I should be dead he sighs

But I stayed in bed

Jack’s a lazy boy

The top of the tower is hidden

Shrouded in 12 tog clouds

A princess is stranded on the shore

She awaits her winged fiery chariot

Meanwhile back at the ranch

The king throws a banquet

You’re a wonderful mother

Laughs Jack languidly

Catching a pattie in his teeth

As the old queen Frisbees them

Out over the assembled unwashed

soon to be stain removed masses

Looking out of his high window

Pale face sees red and white cranes

Not the green shoots

On his desk a beanstalk

Creeps limply over the edge of a jam jar

An earthing wire - the green fuse

The fogs have mystified

And the tower has buckled

It’s all about luck repeats the rabbi

Let them eat horse

Whinnies the observer

As fire rains down from the sky

I should be ded

But I got some zeds

Reads the headline

Clinging wilfully to the precipice

You should be extinct

Who killed the high street?

I said the duck

Its webbed feet thrashing

Below the milliband………

Down below consumers

Are consumed by an overwhelming

Appetite for cheap meat

Thus spreading the spiralling costs

Of the towering tower

Babbling they merge into a whole

Wir sind das Volk!

Part of something bigger than

All of them put together

A man points blandly

A finger post

At the now flaccid bean stalk

As Pegasus lies dying on the tarmac

Buses will be on diversion

For up to three days

Odysseus is advised to use the underground