Shopping Cart's Lament

Frozen, silent, and entombed

In a Midwest urban wasteland

With ranges of great gritty snowbergs

Dotting miles of grease-spotted pavement

My muddy prison, laced with chemicals

In the water, oil-slick and diseased

My rusted, atrophied limbs

Interred in a fetid, festering grave

Up above, my friends still sit

Safe, in silent shining herds

Or pushed, protesting, across the asphalt

Encumbered with heavy plastic loads

But I am trapped, mired, martyred

Bogged down in slimy city slush

And here I sit, longing, yearning

For rescue that never comes—

For a blue-coated savior that never comes.

Please...

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