baron of industry/

new barbed wire glittering in loops
like earrings atop a rusted fence
a spiral notebook stuck in the ground
that keeps me from your filthy treasures
plastics bags are empty
as they whip around your guarddog's legs
leaves rotten in the corner of the lot
icicles frozen to the corrugated gutter
don't come back until i'm gone
you won't want to see me rattling the fence
and the others like me
desperate for the nothings you have