Day 15

[dr_con]

Self Portrait as a City-Garbage bag on the Kitchen Floor
Con/Jur/d, 4/15/2021

When I,
when I first,
when I first moved 
here, having come from San Francisco,
the shock lasted 3 to 5 years, unclear,
broken parts, healing at different rates.

The glitch,
the glitch these,
the glitch these scars
revealed, spoke volumes,
volumes, volumes, volumes.
The City Garbage bags in lieu,
of a monthly bill seemed, coming
from a place aiming for zero waste.

After a while, after a while, I got used
to it, more plastic in the landfill be damned,
this is how I live now! Sure, sure there are 
other ways, but like the trash being burned
in the Caribbean, who am I to judge, judge,

Judged myself,
when I noticed the bag on the kitchen floor,
below the dishwasher, where the water-purifier
pours had been put away, where it belonged.

Dropped when I noticed, it was the wrong
the wrong, the wrong size for the waste bin,
and I was going to pick it up, pick it, pick

I needed,
I needed smaller,
I needed smaller bags,
for the accumulated spring waste,
blown, buried, revealed, by the pass,
the passing of winter. I was, was, was

In the middle of,
in the middle of my cooking,
in the middle of my cooking practice,
And so I filed it away as for later,
later,
later the,
later the next
day and the one after that.

The filing was,
the filing was repeated,
but I, but I, but I, don’t live alone.

(we share the same dream)

When I,
when I first,
when I first noticed,
I thought, I thought, ‘Now what?’

How will the trash get picked up?
When will I ever get the wrong bags again?
Why would she mess with my filing system?

My system,
my system needs
an occasional reboot,

reboot, reboot, reboot, reboot,

There that’s better.