The humans lost their words

The poster above the toilet
is telling me to sort out my erectile dysfunction.
It’s using fun language and puns
to make me feel relaxed. My smoothie
said hello to me earlier. The dustbin
with the filthy mouth thanked me
for throwing a teabag in its stomach.
A petrol pump asked if I needed any assistance.
There are no nods from strangers today.
No half waves, no eyebrows raised.
The objects are in charge.

© Carl Burkitt 2021

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