The Tree-Dweller
with broken wings there
in the crown by the dirt road
going up the mountain
weathered orange
reflecting the sunlight
Tree-Dweller travelled
along with thousands of others
across the ocean
unwanted now on her branch
further ahead the junkyard
where 300.000 other
jackets just like it
form a mountain in a dent on the mountain
the orange mountain used to soar
in the middle of town
nobody was granted the right to forget
Tree-Dweller is hanging like
art not survival
what is she waiting for?
the passage of waste collectors
with new loads of garbage?
more refugee tourists to pose for?
strange fruit goes on growing agonizingly
slowly every day in decay
full of fruit orange plastic some colors
are born to visibility some
blend into everything around
