Loosing All Senses
He can normally smell a rat or two especially as
They rattle their cage when leaving the ship
Tastes defeat when they have won another day
Cuddles their clever escape of untouchable glory
The scent at the food bank tickles his hungry senses
Christmas choirs herald another day on the street
Before he digs in the trash for flavours of injustice
Compressed in a doorway he nudges his squeeze
Poverty exudes a strange fragrance of survival
Soundbites of austerity jingle in a jar bell of loss
He savours a few mouthfuls of leftover curry
Pinches his skin to decide whether he is still alive
His nostrils fill with indelible whiffs of rotten flesh
Voices in his head compete for a walk on part
From the take away menu distastefully priced
Then he doffs his cap and lets go of the rope …
13th December 2019
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2019
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