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Every morning at 3.30,
just meeting sleep (it always
came late, with old excuses), I'd hear it:
whoosh vsh vsh whoosh vsh vsh
I'd run a hand down your
shoulderblade to distract you
from sleep, whisper your first name
(I only ever whispered it) and say,
"The machine is here to take your soul
again. Thought I'd warn you."
or
"Aliens, sir."
or
"What is that?"
whoosh vsh vsh whoosh vsh vsh
And every time we both knew
it was the streetcleaner
puttering through our narrow labyrinth,
but you always said,
"I will protect you."
You always said, "I will protect you."
- by fizznomore |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 08/27/2008 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Streetcleaner
- Artist: fizznomore
- Description: A poem about love and litter. Critiques welcome.
- Date: 08/27/2008
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Comments (2 Comments)
- fizznomore - 09/13/2008
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You know, I'd never thought about it from the perspective of the litter itself. I like that interpretation.
Cheers. - Report As Spam
- La Chibet - 09/13/2008
- This was a little funny. I could aculy see to pices of wadded up papper talking to each other about the street cleaner. Verry good 5/5
- Report As Spam