Phallic like it struts the sky
proclaiming its presence.
Whilst in the halls below
twenty-four by seven
false glitz and glitter sparkles,
in the permanent
man made twilight,
and the constant ka-ching
of bling can be heard
changing hands
with a speed that is absurd.
The captains of misery
sit at their tables
laundering the wallets
of any passers-by
foolish enough to sit,
and fall to the guile
of their smile.
The mechanical moneylenders
lurk in every nook and cranny
only too willing
to bleed your plastic,
until the bank balance
has as much spring
as a bungee elastic.
Such it is in this house of sin,
where no one needed
to invite you in.
There’s only one safe bet……
you didn’t get what you came for.
Phallic like it struts the sky
ignoring the obscenities
in the halls below.