Byron is home to eccentric eclectics
where loaded* European backpackers
can get in the groove, learn to surf

with a plethora of alternatives
yoga, vegan, whale watching
tree hugging muso’s* gather

their children feral
they pretend to be poor
denouncing family wealth

until it suits them to demand
a top up of funds to live
the alternative hippy life

where movie stars own the pub
their mansions in the scrub
where all dance to a different beat

shun society and laws
mix their metaphors
some povos* are tolerated

draped in a shroud
they mix a fake blend
of each latest trend

nothing authentic or real
they bop along lost in zeal
the area a natural paradise

they try to outdo each other
in who can drop out the most
blinded to the stunning coast

an alternatives wasteland
where some visit to watch
weirdness in this twilight zone

they blend this and that
where authenticity lacks
no traceable foundation

no inhibitions no taboos
it’s all in your face
as they embrace

any current trend
blatant hypocrisy
as they mould it

to suit their own ends
manipulating where it weaves
let’s plant wholesome seeds …

loaded = wealthy
muso’s = musicians
povo’s = poor people

this poem was inspired by the ‘colour’ d’Verse prompt and a visit from one of the above groups after I enquired about local hospice care. This charity visited with their brochure rather than post them out!  Seems they seldom get clients but do manage to raise a lot of funds …