Garbage Day

 

The Garbage man is coming

and he wants my trash,

but I don’t want to give it to him.

No, not today.

Today I want to stay in bed

and keep my garbage

all to myself.

The landfill doesn’t need it.

The dump is full.

It isn’t going to miss my

used Kleenex,

potato peels,

used coffee filters

and assorted refuse.

No, I don’t compost.

Fuck that shit.

I have a garbage man

that comes on the regular

and he doesn’t discriminate

against organics.

Fuck.

Now I can’t go back to sleep.

Pretty soon,

I’m gonna hear that truck

coming down the street.

Five houses down,

then four,

then three,

then two.

What do the neighbors think?

They can clearly see

my garbage can isn’t at the curb.

No blue bag of recyclables

three feet behind,

just like the city says.

They know I’m not playing along.

Not a member of their little

“Garbage Day Club”.

No, not today.

Don’t care.

Not one fuck to give.

Who the hell are they

to tell me

that I have to conform

to every little dictum

of their bullshit

authoritarian power structure?

It’s my garbage.

My orange peels,

my coffee filters,

my broken dreams,

and ashes,

and lost hopes,

and dead friends.

Mine.

And I’ll do with them

what I want.

There it is.

The hiss of airbrakes

and the whine of hydraulics

five houses away,

and I’m putting on my slippers.

 

 

HG – 2022

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