Tetchikhan: Welcome To The Slums
Smoke billowed and wafted over the hillside
From fires that glowed in controlled sites.
Hundreds watched and waited for a patch to be cleared
To build shacks and squat on land that's not theirs.
Ordered chaos as far as the eye can see.
An army of immigrants camped out in a makeshift sea.
A stream of sewage trickles through the streets
People waving their arms to ward off flies,
In some spots their swarms are a clouded morass
A menace that's just as bad as the stench.
The din of voices and beast of burden as loud as can be
Sunday, June 7, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: fiction,immigration,poverty,revolutionary