The Vac
A poem
A monstrous vacuum-incinerator Heard churning from streets away A harnessed yak and two handlers Walk it through town on collection day “House waste, garden waste, rag-bone!” Residents run out with bins “Bring out yer furniture, scraps, junk!” Barely heard over the din The Vac throws wide its gaping mouth Inhales with ferocious might The air around it crackles Its gullet glows with light
