The bin-men and bin-women
of Birmingham
are on strike.
Black bin bags barricade the streets,
decaying vegetables
rotting meat
and putrid fish
perfume the pavements:
an odour brewed
in the vat
of spending cuts.

In the park
families picnic
between discarded
takeaway boxes:
their children chase
windblown paper towels
round an assault course
of half-empty cola bottles.

Rats big as cats
prowl the roads
like tigers
and eat car wires
bringing the city to
a stinking, gridlocked stop.