There are culture vultures everywhere;
eager to bite in the golden dust.
Dust no ordinary,
it smells of gorgeous cobwebs of ancient civilisations The culture vultures eye the cobwebs
First a look Then a kiss
And at last a passionate embrace that sets the cobwebs shivering.
“Who are these aliens, licking me, fondling me, stroking me?
Where were they when I was desperate for hideouts “?
The paranoid cobwebs resist the exploration While the culture vultures move on