Tony Chapman-Art Music Writing

We caught an extravagant bus from Wyoming to Minnesota on the morning of the 10th of June as a ridiculous sun toppled the ancient Aztec buildings of Klaxton Town in a clear mist.
   How hypocritical were the Geesha girls, standing by the the rubbish bins waiting for the solid Dustmen to come marching out of the sad, clear mist, stainless steel pitchforks over their shoulders, like so many exquisite Medusas, dressed in their solid golden tunics