the absurdity of suburbia
the man with the plastic bag stands patiently
his dog is having a shit on the council’s grass verge
pristine
soon he will pick up the shit while it is still warm
and squish it into the appointed bin
anointed with the frankincense of putrefaction
jesus christine
both the man and his dog are satisfied
a few lampposts to pee on and to count the way home
either side of their lead suburbia is quiescent
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