Tagged: junk

six shops deep into

six shops deep into
knick-knack hell, we could smell the
sea still beckoning –

when you say Savannah, i
am a bull in a china shop

imagination is

imagination is
often built on
the castoffs we
scout for on
the streets –
one or two kicks
away from full-
fledged street
football, three
to four sign
posts into a
race –
but even the best
of us will
rust, like the scrap
metal we collect
just because
someone imagined
it was once shiny