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