from my second floor office window
at 6:15 a.m.
as i type idly
i am watching the garbage collector
down the alley
lift one by one
the heavy pails
to empty into the truck's maw
he tosses one bag and it misses
he picks it up and tucks it in
he throws back a green plastic pail
and then he straightens the row of empty pails
such conscientiousness surprises me
he takes pride in his work
i am proud of him
the truck crushes loudly at the pull of a lever
all the recent history
the fraternity heineken over the dam
wheat chex detritus
a six-egg carton, styrofoam nipples crushed
tissues stuck with hay fever issue
a yellow sticky note crumpled before it could be read
leftover rice
anyway, the truck back ups and beeps
and drives away, to the next station,
and i continue typing,
organizing and discarding,
thinking about
going outside
neatening up
our poor world,
too
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