VELIKI OTPAD - BIG RUBBISH

VELIKI OTPAD - BIG RUBBISH

Anticipated like an annual migration
The nervous wait is finally broken
By the first few, exhausted arrivals
Washed up on the grassy shore

After an epic journey begun
In some distant, forgotten country
A sofa appears by the road's edge,
Its tail feathers torn, an arm seems worn.

Then, a rare balloon-backed chair
Lands awkwardly and a second leg snaps off.
Blind windows having lost their site
Stagger clumsily over the growing mound

Of carcasses. A flock of aged, bald headed Michelins
Alight in the field, their tarnished, black plumage
No longer impress the lesser breeds.
A nest of boxes stuffed to the brim

Spill their guts on impact with a downey,
White feathered fridge. By nightfall vans draw up
Furtively and with a flapping of wings
Relieve themselves of the burden of all our failures.

Then the scavengers descend in search of scraps
Sinking their hammer-claws into anything
Showing even the vaguest signs of potential life.
And when they leave they leave nothing
Nothing more than the wreckage of all our lives
Of our own pathetic journeys.

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