Photo courtesy of Karin Quinn.
Found on a garbage pail.
Tidal rivers don’t go up slopes.
If you are living like tidal fluctuations, give a wave as you pass by.
If you’re boring at home, writing weird poetry for garbage cans won’t make you more interesting.
Fluctuations? Mr Chan says “Fluct you round-eyes, too!”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Trash in the eye is a river of pain.
This is what happens when a literature major has to find a job in the real world making garbage pales.
It has a hint of Vogon poetry, but only true Vogon poetry would drown the reader in a river of pain.
Actually. The slope is getting easier at my age.
It’s all mainly downhill now.
This kind of writing is beyond the pail.
Two words . . . RUBBISH BIN
@DnT 0009 Ah. Bucket