and then what?
We could build palaces from plastic bags!
give a man a pot and pan and he’ll make a noise,
ha those boys don’t give a damn,
but give a dame the same and she could cook up such a treat.
I made my name by washing rags and sewing buttons on snowmen’s eyes, ha again, that’s a surprise to you who always buy brand new and think the old stuff fades away or your daily helper helps herself.
When the rivers run blue with toxic waste and food tastes of chemical gum and we realise that ‘Soylent Green’ is the future and what we’ve become,
we shall unfill the landfills
swill out the trash
shove in the bankers and
burn all the cash,
because it’s no use to man nor beast and I for one wouldn’t want a feast of Dollars or Euros,
who knows what men make of them when they’re spitting out phlegm
and splitting the atom or at ’em again,
who I am is not the what or the why of it
and if I die
it will only hurt me a bit
will hurt me to know that where flowers should grow there’s a dump.
© 2015, John Smallshaw.