Down The Street. Poem by Tony Adah

The refuse man rolled a Barrow of rubbish
Down the street
His hair unkempt and a tattered shirt
Hung upon his shoulders drifting with dirt
Down the street
A horde of children line
Both sides to taunt his trade.

Dogs howled and barked
Whenever he passes to dispose
Of the rubbish in the ravine
There some people who go with him
Without helping him
Instead they help to tell his taunters
That he was passing by
And they are the giant house flies
With bulging eyes and hairy anus

This horde have their songs
As well as the dogs and the taunting voices
Of children laughing at his trade
He deviced a pungent mixture
Which he dipped his broom in
And splashes on those who swarm
About him making jest of him.
And the dogs his work boots
Of worn out leather a weapon to kick
And the flies his wide nostrils
Gushed a stream of air
That deflected their way
And make him safe to and fro his route.