Scrapyard Jungle

By: Alexandra Miller

The twisted metal trees
Rise up from the heap
Magpies hop about
The glittering savannah
And crows harass the mice
Nesting in the chewed
Leather seat
Of a Volkswagen
A scruffy dog
Stalks the crows
His paws padding softly across
A refrigerator door
Cockroaches scurry about,
Any mildew in their path
Is Vanished.
They are the army ants
That march across the forest floor.
The crows are the howler monkeys,
Squawking loudly.
The flies are mosquitoes,
Buzzing about, annoying.
And magpies are vultures,
Looking for anything.
Landlines dangle from a crane
Like bananas from a tree
A bus rusts away,
Yellow to red
The motorcycle gleams,
A new addition
And scavengers walk about
Looking for anything of value,
They will leave defeated,
This jungle is dead.