The Old Shopping Trolley Told Me


I didn't come here to die
I came here to think

what a plunge
from the bridge
the bubble rush
through my steels

and how can I describe
the feeling in my wheels?
you humans have
no equivalent

most of us, you know,
are planning our escapes
from your marked-bay-only
muzak-playing end-of-life places

I love the long rains
to feel the line submerge me
disperse the light like honey
watch the frantic feet of ducks
pedaling against the current

what a freedom
to drop below your sight

there was never a bee nor
thirsty fox nor skittish butterfly
who had dream of my absence
calculated what length of rope
to drag my algaed frame

it's my river too
and I know why I came


© Brendan Bonsack
January 2018