Joe was standing

In a legoland

Bus shelter

More wet than dry

He had tired of humanity

An elderly woman

Sat opposite him

She had two bottles

Of scotch in her pathetic bag

And was protecting them

Like they were the children

That she had abandoned

Before she was twenty years

Everybody was smoking

What friendly cancers

Were they hiding

Within their thick coughs

A poet wore a buttonhole

Of tiny purple flowers

Which he was going to present

To his one and only love

He was carrying a dutch doll

In his one free pocket

He called her Marretje Arent

Joe felt quite betrayed

As he had been born far away

He was a child of a forgotten empire