P L A S T I C

Plastic life

Plastic words

Plastic people

Put on shows

In their plastic house

On their plastic boat

The plastic, fantastic

Future’s here to behold

With plastic love

And dreams of PVC

And plastic kisses

Upon my warm face

I love picking plastic flowers

Sitting on the plastic grass

Watching plastic clouds

 Sweep across the plastic sky

I love plastic mornings

And the smell of petrol fumes

I love plastic evenings

And the plastic love we share

This plastic life

Ends in plastic death

In my plastic coffin

I’ll finally meet myself

For in death there’s no plastic

And God forbids that very word;

My soul, out of its plastic shell,

In the mirror, nude, finally sees itself.