Factory Walls.paths
bleak traffic signs
do this; don't do that.
Sunshine
on
steel towers
full of plastic pellets
and cardboard tubes.
Walls scrawled
with names -
forgotten teens and
footballers too old to play.
Rusted fences padlocked
against childrenand the odd vandal
come to smash a window
or get smashed
Smashedmashed
trashed
a wastrel, wasted
strung out on
cheap lager
and a tenner of H.That old door
bolted for the last time
while the Old Man's Beardflourishes
through the new steel fence
that protects the wasteland
from parked cars
rusting.
4 comments:
How many times can I say Wow? In how many different ways do you think?
Everything is jolting - look at this picture - get a jolt - at this one - get a jolt.
The world needs to wake up doesn't it!
Thanks Aims.
I rather enjoyed writing that poem.
A fine poem, Rach. Indeed, as aims says, it does jolt the senses.
Thank you Gina. Nice to have you back :)
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