Ealing Chimes

The promise of stanzas acquired from money-rich sounds
(with differences as small as those words on the back of a contract)
and lyrics which rhyme like a cat having its tail trod on
just reminds me of toy music intended for adults.

Those Ealing chimes still fix anger in my thoughts
with heroin tunes injected on the hour,
emptying the soul of sensibility like
ammonia empties sight from the eyes.