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T.G.I.F. by Carol Ronaldson

Carol Ronaldson | June 13th, 2011 | a poem a day challenge | No Comments

The city sighs.

She spits out the
bitter taste of the week,
road rage
people rage
soul rage
regurgitates

the bad breath of,
Kamikaze taxis
snooty SUV’s
Blik Met Wiele, and
Putco
buses someone
thought cheerful
to paint orange, but
are smoggy sunsets
on speed instead.

The city waves
the
fat cats
the pied-piper rats
the gold diggers
the
non-Pick’tuppers,
Hamba!
Voetsak!
Goodbye!

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