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Location: California

I love paper. Books printed on acid-free paper and bound in cloth turn me on. I'm crazy about bookmarks, and I buy too many stickers. I could spend hours in the build-your-own-greeting card section of my neighborhood craft store. My favorite thing to eat is bread, and my second favorite is fruit. (Mm, pineapple.) I read too much and too fast, and I watch too many food shows (two ways of looking at gluttony). Gloomy, rainy weather calms me and so I can't wait to move out of California, which will happen, sadly, too many years from now to count. I'm vegan, though I haven't managed to eliminate honey from my diet yet. I practice yoga; it's the only way I can keep fit. I have a better life than I ever imagined I would (or deserve to) have, but I do my best to enjoy it rather than feel guilty about it. That's my daily struggle -- and also to be thoughtful and observant and honest with myself.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Another Poem

The Garbage Truck

The garbage truck sputters and rumbles.
Its green metal tusks gnash on the green metal bin.
Its wheels groan under the weight
of severed tree branches, meat-stained paper plates,
flower pots with green twigs still clinging to unwatered dirt,
empty cartons of hot dogs and cigarettes,
bulging plastic bags muzzled with red ties
inside which you can see an old bank statement,
apple cores, tangled dental floss, a handful of spaghetti
like a clump of hair sticky with dried blood.
Even a book at the top of the pile,
a swollen, rained-on copy of the autobiography
of Lauren Bacall.

I want to ask the garbage collector if
he ever worries about transporting dead bodies wrapped in carpets
in the belly of his truck; if he ever dreams
about the end of the world coming in a flood of garbage.

I want to ask him who, in the evening, after dinner,
takes out the trash at his house.


Blogger Marigoldie said...

Ooohhh, I like that image of the spaghetti, and the rained-on book.

January 20, 2006  

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