off to some landfill
on the other side of town,
hauled to a barge to drift
aimlessly until the world ends.
but you're happy that it does go.
all the bags, all the trash,
the garbage we set out for
the men in the loud orange
truck on mondays and thursdays.
we don't thank them enough
if at all. in fact they are looked
down upon, as if they have
no ability to get another job.
they remove our things we
no longer want. the food
we no longer eat. the broken
plates and cups.
the debris of our lives that
are no longer any use to us.
i've lost track of the wedding
rings and mementos
i've tossed into a bag
and set it out by the hydrant
for the morning pick up.
always thankful to see them go.
smiling at the mighty bins roar.
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