Garbage Day
Jan 12 2023
Garbage day.
Containers
in all their permutations
out by the street;
green plastic bins
and dented aluminum,
tall fancy ones
on nifty wheels.
Some tipped, where dogs got at them,
and others where clever raccoons
deftly removed the lids.
Garbage, spilling out and scattered,
gulls swooping in.
And there must surly be rats,
scurrying boldly about in the dark
surreptitious during the day.
Big fat Norwegians,
who we not only find repulsive
but are too much like us for comfort,
opportunistic creatures
who have followed in our footsteps
as we colonized the world.
As well as a good time for skunks,
another nocturnal animal
we naturally recoil from.
The master of chemical warfare
defiantly standing its ground.
Which is when the dog slunk in,
tail down, ears flat
stinking to high heaven.
A garbage hound
who got her just comeuppance,
and will now spend the night in the yard
contemplating her sins
and futilely licking herself.
And then the morning after.
When the big yellow truck
is completing its usual rounds,
rattling down
street after street
making stop after stop,
waking the neighbours
with its grinding gears and squealing brakes.
And in its wake
a trail of empty bins
scattered haphazardly
out by the curb.
The wildlife,
who will patiently bide their time
until the next free buffet.
And our week's worth of garbage;
out of sight, out of mind
no longer our concern.
No comments:
Post a Comment