The Night Soil Man 2
Adorned with militant mask like buglar,
Wicked Pail, flying broom and magic parker,
His fully fitted filthy working tools,
Attacking shadow falls on full to the brim bin,
While some bounty dropplets swiftly swept and packed,
And turned all the tall bin in his yawning pail,
Atlas, cursed by Zeus to carry the world up a steep
hill,
Heaved without a yelp the heavy evacuation on top,
And the dark wizard stole away into the darkness.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
