Kerbside

Kerbside

The street has become a graveyard
for dispirited analogue TV’s,
laid to rest on worn-out couches,
wet-through from the elements.

Sombre arrangements of bric-a-brac,
knick-knacks, curios and whimsy
have been placed at the foot
of solitary wooden memorials,
rickety and half-furnished.

There appears no end
to the tarnished, dusty
and broken wreaths of debris.
A shrine to excess, caprice and progress.