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
