The incessant trams are the colour of the skin
after a course of suntan pills and your opinions
have to change a lot, like the weather but more
deliberately; where fashion is argued for, is
true love like two speech balloons that merge,
even before the attached figures have met?
At least your blinding headaches will modulate to a
slow wastage of the self, as your drugged &
artificial suntan fades. Then a voice you've never
heard before--your own--will say: 'Be a caricature,
John, and not a cartoon, if you want to lose
your nostalgia for the sensual, glaring sun!'