Incinerators

index

I once wrote a poem about incinerators,

How every yard had one,

In the Age Before Recycling,

How mine lists down the back like a drunk,

Old twigs and branches spilling

From its charred mouth

But I couldn’t get it right

So I threw it with other paper scraps

Into my partner’s wood heater

And watched it go up in smoke.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s