A poem by Benjamin Duncan
5 m.p.h. speed limit imposed in this suburban cul-de-sac
be warned, these rubbish stacks may topple
and with the fury of a Himalayan avalanche bury the tuk-tuk
so deep not even a wolverine will be able to dig it out
a driver with a fare of two, expertly navigating the blue veins
of the skylight crack above, a solitary bead of sweat
plunges from his scalp
but what, one passenger says to the other, are they
cooking us for dinner?
crow and marinated sponge kebab in a rotten watermelon
rind with a compost coulee, as far as I know
eugh, how unoriginal
Benjamin Duncan: Overground Underground: fiction, poetry, visual-linguistic ephemera