Behold,
everybody
focus your attention
from the truck’s shadow
hauling pallets
behold the old landfill
(extinct for so many years)
resurges
so does the ravine
it resurges
lake
tin
reed
an old sieve hawk…
people spanning the depths of luck
they all resurge
I hear brats shouting
in high pursuit of the sweet truck
the lot is chic today
there’s shopping
shop windows
yesterday I behaved like a little boy
but today it’s uniform, fists and neckband
it’s hard not to believe
that nobody sees
our multiplied ground wagons
dogs with scabies
our search for carrion
nor the vultures circling our heads…
