SHUT SESAME

The flood of ebbing
Make-believing
Belief has gone
Stranding mudlarks
In their mire

Flapping flipping flopping
Blaming the cold moon
For sucking out the tide's
Timeless recycle of event

We await a new tide
Not old sewage
But new water to wash away
The new lamps for old
Age-old swindle
Inside Aladdin's Cave.