Vacuum Cleaners In a Blizzard

Huddled out the back door of the thrift store

the death of Capitalism laid bare:

caged without reason behind chain link facing

front and ranked at attention a dozen captive

soldiers with no battle to bear and wearing

identical Grenadier caps of snow.


No one will use them again, disposable

mercenaries heralding planned

obsolescence and the death of the noble.

Or perhaps simply discarded broken home

appliances, nobody's symbol but my own.

Snow piles up in the night and that's no image

out there, asleep under the bridge.


(From Not Me, Exactly, c. 2020 by Dennis Held)