Career plans for fiends

 Saint andrew heights
High hills with terraces
each one for a person
their sense of wealth

Driven down to the swamps
to the schools and abandoned streets
not far from the perimetral
Timeless lost absent crescents of streets
fickle as labrynths

Fickle as moss concrete brick stairs
As the drug dealer threw little sachets of narcotics
landing in sandwiches, half opened mouths and newspapers open
Riding his pseudo-neo futuristic segway
A ceo in his own underpants

The cops watched from their shaded car windows
drizzle humidifying everything
Instead of arresting the miscreant they tipped their hats to him
Productivity was high at the office that day