grasping at solitude on my angular wooden deck
braving the sun with the rain in check
at the height of my trance a beggar man appears
ghastly filthy sight confirming my fears
hobbles unsteadily to our sidewalked garbage bags
gobbles smelly leftovers and pockets stubbed out fags
rummages and scratches through scraps of our pride
my wealthy, healthy acidpity blown open wide
amongst potato peelings and spent coffee grounds
muffled yelps of delight and other cheery sounds
he speedsorts through the mess post-haste
the quickpiled treasure a testament to waste
handle-less coffee mug raises a whoop of cheer
at long last the proud owner of something dear
like a disco-pirate; neon orange sunglasses, one lens amiss
with grand fanfare both jovial and jaunty, he blows me a kiss
joint from last night’s roast is grabbed
nibbling on sinew and fat, he’s nabbed
a broken Barbie crown, bejewelled and gold
450 carat plastic ruby – a sight to behold
as he staggers and he swaggers to the neighbour’s pile
ahobble and awobble with a pompous old king style
explosive angercompassion I yell, “What the heck…”
quickasaflash, “marram, I’m so sorry burrum outta wek”
(and “marram, I’m so hepppeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”)
so with great aplomb he chasses to the next rubbish box
gold crown balanced precariously atop his dirty dreadlocks
a fading torment from my weak conscience
forever erasednot from my bleak existence
No comments:
Post a Comment