A twisted skeleton
Beside busy highway -
Umbrella abandoned
When fierce rains made it splay,
Upward, outward, useless?
A corpse lays in the street -
Server's black cash apron,
Tossed away in the heat
Of mad furies from work,
When she was called useless...
So much trash, scattered 'round;
Relics of our culture
That one day will be found
By descendents, for sure,
Who cast us as useless.
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