waste

the concertina wire's persistent sharpness

is unbroken but it can only

hum as it tries to snag the wind,

a discordant despair with

no true economy, lines 

are twisted desire to hold

squalid hopes banked against need.

an orange glow with no warmth

B

A

R

a neon sunrise in the cold dim

6 a.m. light. closed.

there are no spirits to thin the blood

only the drowned ghosts of

memories and regrets swept 

into the corners with the busted teeth,

puke, piss and blood.

debris.

nostalgia remembered on 

a dusted shelf or derelict in a

mummified desert. lives become 

trinkets abandoned.  golden trash.

land fills and grave yards fill

with preciousness

.