Incommensurate Poem by Ian Kellett

The place was full of those who
Dabbled with topicality whilst dangling
Working class cigarettes from the
Ends of middle class fingers,
And only inhaled when induced
To do so due to confusion;
One even smoked a Cuban
Cigar that way, without
Realizing how delicate he looked;
As if waiting to fall from it.
Lipstick laced tabs and menthol
Tips chased one another around
The ash of their gallery,
Whilst everyone discussed the meaning
Of life on the back of that morning’s headlines,
Or match book just picked up.
It’s not a nice scene to attend, let alone
Belong to, as the changeable ways of
The participants are not worth
Any attention span.