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this is the end

When I was little

There was a place

on

the South

Side

of

Glasgow

Where we sometimes went (dad & I)

on bleak Sunday mornings,

To dispose

of items

no longer

useful or desired.

 

It was

‘The Tip’

 

A maw.

 

A dark

Mechanical

Mouth that consumed

All.

 

Many years later

I returned

With mum

and

Dad’s

Old clothing;

 

Black bags

tossed

Into the void.

 

Today

I took my daughter to the local

site;

 

More orderly,

A sanitised version of former;

 

I heard a couple

Complaining.

 

It was

just as bleak,

As consequential

In its ability to convey the pointlessness

of material gain

And

Acquisition.

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