Poetry knows how to personify
objects, so that readers ,perhaps
end up reading about rubbish bins
that protested and pronounced
that they would no longer put
up with the bulk of foul crap!
Fancy a typically still and smelly bin
putting a lid on itself and stating:
I`ve been taking this kind of trash
for too long, but guess what?
I`m done with swallowing junk
from you, I`m jumping ship,
and embracing cleanliness!
Â
A shocked jersey dodged and ducked
a 12 year old boy who was trying
to tuck into it, he had last worn
the outfit when he was just four:
The sweater didn’t mince its words:
I don’t take kindly to careless chaps
who don’t see that they`ve grown.
Don’t stretch my patience thin,
or else I`ll snap into shards now!
I once marveled at lively marionettes
who danced the popular kizomba
dance style with an adeptness
and a suppleness that mentally
transported me to Angola. Suffice
to say I ended up thinking aloud:
these fabulous finger-puppets kill it
and voyage with me to … Luanda!Â
