The Albert Hall

You know when a cow dungs?
The flies begin to appear.
They manifest from the good air,
Materialising with their greedy neurotic dance.

That truly was my thought
Outside the Albert Hall;
That enormous bulb of a sphincter.
With its adulating flatulating interior.

It splurts its diarrhea of bodies
And the taxis, in there hundreds appear.
Oozing out of the nowhere,
Hungrily jostling for their next fare.

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