Waste Management

I am the center of the drain,
The bottom of the suck.
The world passes through me and
I collect the detritus:

The unwanted
Stems and rinds and egg shells,
Clumps of hair and worry, paint chips,
Broken glass and fury,
Dirty bites and foul words,
Dead skin, soggy newspaper,
Burnt crumbs, murk and sewage.

When I become clogged,
So befouled with clutter and rot,
Stifled and stunted by
The spoils of love and war,
Stopped with refuse and the refused,
The completely unhinged and maculated,
I cannot gasp to scream.

I stew
A festering meditation
Akin to death
But less composed.
A monk born in a septic tank
Muttering filthy mantras,
Scratching at the infection
With clotted lungs and soft eyes.

I no longer have a taste
For the world which flows through me.
Rank water and rotten fruits,
The cascades of garbage swirling
Toward me are like sandpaper against my heart;
Abrasive, the gnashing teeth of a petulant shark,
Salted whips on my wet skin, a storm of thorns.

I feel alien. Uncomprehending,
I swallow the endless assault.
Gorged on rot and sludge and disappointment,
I feel myself succumbing to the indolence, eyelids crusted and heavy,
Forever distant from the dwindling vestige of sky.


About brokeMC

Artist: Graphic Design, Audio Production, Photo and Film Production and Editing, Painting, Writing, and all other manner of creative indulgence. and my moonwalk is ill.
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1 Response to Waste Management

  1. You’ve captured all of the characteristics a drain would bear bringing it from an everyday object not usually cared for to something that is truly vital as well as something that takes part in our everyday necessities. Amazing

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