Rubbishitrocks
RUBBISHITROCKS
rubbish bins rot their
stenchsimmers in dark
lanes
the gluttony of pots
slopslaughters of
remains
rodents hiding behind
verminrocks
stonethrowers
feeble weedywarts
carcasses fried with
flies in the heat
of stillstopping
hearts
who knock at the door with violins unstrung…
to bid enter would force a
stand before their
watercoloured
court
where writes turn
to anaemic
amoebia’s of the
fragileflopfaint
verses of yawn open doors
to drain the wounds
of weary wacko’s
in their wake
@ Kim van Breda
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