• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 10

Scrapyard Blues

What do I think
so far – is it rubbish

I have been taught
nothing counts

one two three four five
once I had a car to drive
six seven eight nine ten
then I let it rot again

why – did I not regret
because I saw no need to fret
until this rubbish threatened me
with rain and storm and warming sea

here today gone tomorrow
an idiom I understand

dead as a Dodo
extinct as the Dinosaurs
born of woman – sons of Gods
all Doomed I tell you

I'm singing the scrapyard