A Trashy Observation

I like writing poems about common phrases and folk wisdom, because it's a chance to take something a bit prosaic and mundane, and put it in a different light. They're rarely serious poems though, and this is no exception.

As far as it is possible

for a generalization

to be untrue, the line about

my trash being someone’s treasure

seems to possess little value.

I have yet to view a person

in rapture over used tissues,

soiled diapers, or broken glass,

but maybe the fault lies with me

for not looking in the right place.

Maybe it’s a commentary

on the frequency of bad taste;

but I’ve seen more bad furniture

and art in houses than at the curb,

so I think that guess is kaput.

But I shouldn’t be judgmental,

if you or any of your friends

desire any lawn clippings,

moldy leftovers, chipped CDs,

or any other form of junk,

feel free to stop by someday.