BoomTown

A tribute to a festival I've never been to

BoomTown

Rush hour at BoomTown
Chaotic is the pace
Anarchy, it rumbles round
A strangely saner space
Than avenues we come from
The Shires where we hail
Vales where the sun's shone
And colours slowly pale
A predictable transparent
A routine pallid hue
A wall of sound invalid
With a tired sombre view
Chapters dull in muted tomes
Frozen ponds and colder Koi
Ironic in the thunder dome
There's calm within the noise
In the majesty of chaos
In the calling of the fringe
An other worldly séance
With a pull, an urban twinge
A siren's song, anarchic
Via steampunk driven runes
Rats flee to scenes cathartic
Rushing to the pipers tunes
Whilst Pied with spots, we're leopards
Each flock has their own time
Every era has their shepherds
… in BoomTown I found mine