The Garbage Is Collected On Thursday Poem by Kyle Schlicher

The floor is littered
Ideas dying
Spewed
About
On sheets of crumpled paper.
Leftovers
From days ago
Laying around as the ink
Slowly dries
Into some kind of written
Rorschach Ink blot
Nightmare of expressed memory.
The dead bodies
Piling up
Begin to corrupt
The hungering soul fighting
To find solace and acceptance in writing.
The senseless slaughter continues
As nothing helpful flows
From the hand
Onto the paper
Until the mess dies
Begins to collect flies
Swarming the rotting remains.
Soon the room smells of decay.
But don't worry
The garbage is collected on Thursday.

(6-23-1984)