Rags and bones.

‘Any scrap iron,

any crap iron.’

The male voice penetrates the tenement.

Tin Man delves in his pocket

for the rogue trader

selling heart.

The Special Bear

Do you want another go?
My pockets clinked with twenty pees.
The bear looked up at me and smiled,
his paws upon on his knees.

I've got one ugly manufactured toy
that lies and looks at me
with one glass eye
and squeezed it utters
some profanity.

'Dear Bear  these metal claws won’t hold you
nor support your weight
before the closing of the fair
to stay here is your fate.

No, I'll save my twenty pees 
for a diff'rent money spinner
the rifle shoot
or fishing net
where every one's a winner.’

'But what have you to gain..’
said Bear
‘from hoarding artificial plastic crap?
see my ears are velveteen
I'll sit upon your lap.'

'Come on you
 take another chance....
and maybe I'll be yours
who wants a plastic submarine
when I've got velvet paws?'

I see the couple arm in arm,
they haven't got a care,
I want to ask them how it was
each bagged a special bear.

The one with hearts,
excited eyes,
silk jackets,
black bow ties.
The one without the vulgar laugh
or wind up children's song.
The one that's almost gone....

(Rights to image owned by Magic Quill)