Wasted

1 February 2016

the toppled woods were beautiful –
palm needles, car tires, bark and heat.
ash-plumes tickling the armpit
of sky, cloud ribboned like
cassette tape. we found Ozymandias
submerged in a century of polymers,
the gadgetry of bored children –
playstations, waterguns, ancient tvs.
the trash-amphitheatre sprawled like
a city before us. we took tiny breaths,
coughing up treacles as we spoke
bilingual tongues of ghetto and dirt.
later, we lay on sheet-metal counting
space-junk and satellites, and yes,
the toppled woods were beautiful
but we were not crying. acid rain
tiptoed down our faces like falling stars.

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