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Connor Poems (129 of 191).jpg

Hear the Trolleys Roar

The constant gnaw of trolleys

Screaming like a hundred

Out of halting control rollercoasters

Burning through pavement’s crevices

Roaring to the idea of excessive consumption


I’m sitting down at wheel view

Down on the pavement

Down with the dirt and grime

As they race around, around me

There’s an immensity in their movements

A victorious vigour normally kept

For the great beasts of this world

But here, the beast is icy clear

It’s the overriding sense

Of insatiable consumption


People vying for pole position

Pushing past depressive rusting

Gaping wet entry shelter

Circling isles as they hoard and boast

Saliva riddled mouths, grabbing hands

Sniffing out deals like fashion told them so


Relishing in the idea of owning more

Eating more

Throwing away more

And in turn keeping the rich

Filthy fucking greaseball rich

And the rest of us

Where they want us

Down in the ditch

With a trolley to hand

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