Better Plastics
We need better plastics,
To hell with the bakelite saints
That stand silent inside,
The great wheels,
of the grand vehicle.
Forever sleeping behind visqueen,
Covered plexiglass,
hiding themselves
From the eyes of prophets,
And cruel November.
We need better plastics,
The Christ that guards
The scorpion forever persevered
In lucite;has become,
frail from the sunlight
And cracks, with each
Touch,slowly deteriorating
With each passing December.
Copyright © Charles Pullen | Year Posted 2016
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