After the weekend: Predawn Creatures

A serviette creeps up on unsuspecting ankles;
her beak-folds are decked in bbq lippy, “x x x!”

Under a pair of unloved sunnies,
torn foil-wrap recharges her batteries
in lunar-power shower and fake-tan neon

Disloyal kebab-meats scatter at sight of cops—
mingle with the salads in the gutter
to buy some jalapeno and radish
        
A lone choc-bar wrapper dances a mating woo,
as if that were a springtime breeze
instead of the up-gush from a subway grill

Drawn-out pink gum slugs under a shop front glass,
dragging its rubbery heal to home
after a last minute rejection

Coffee cup spins every which way
to catch a fly guy;
looks like he’s still interested
in that silver-decked pigeon shit

Thick grimy soot spreads out, a predator;
the old haunt tries to swallow other organisms
By the casino, flushed out atm receipts flutter away

From earlier midnight brawl, splats of blood congregate,
mixing in the dark with trickles of piss
carrying strung out yellow-marrowed filters;
they wash down hill like shy speckled bugs

Hashes of sand between the paving get splattered
by waves of mashed french fries and recycled alcohol
and then there’s me the dirty piece of rubbish