The waste should go
Into the dustbin
Lying across the street
Sitting within its own rancidity.
Add a barbed wire.
A brave army person.
A poet carrying trash:
A heated argument.
The army moves
With rifles and batons
About to hit the poet;
Everybody knows
Where the plot of such situation goes.
But, in that frozen hanging moment
The poet IS the trash.
One angry syllable
And he will go dead down
Into the trashcan of a rotting nation.
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