A Mercedes Hubcap Poem by Sheena Blackhall
A Mercedes Hubcap
Cistern and sieve emerge like changelings
In the disenfranchised wastes of rubbishdom
A Mercedes hubcap shelters from the rain
A tyre curls up with a toilet seat
Here, is a holding bay of rejects
Lacking legitimate purpose
Lacking status,
Of no fixed abode.
A red umbrella rests on a greasy mattress
A mildewed orange splits its tangy sides
Two bike wheels lie divorced, their assets stripped.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/20/2024 10:53:38 AM # 1.0.0.1119
