Garbage Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

Usually it is the cheaters who
scream the loudest
when they are cheated.
Pontificating on their pain
as if somehow it
was greater than all
the world's problems.
That's o.k.

The garbage bags line the street
and really
no one notices them except
the dogs and cats tearing
into the waste for food.
It is only the garbagemen
who have to worry.
The rest of us have so
effectively learned
to hide our eyes.

And though it rains all night long
we know that the morning
had better be full of sun.
It is easier to play house
when the day is bright and lonely.
Rushing like people on fire
to flee our children so
that we can masquerade our pain
by the various forms of employment
we have surrendered to.

Money is not just a drug,
it is our sacred 'god' that
we worship daily as we imagine
that the growing dollar signs
will somehow buy us the peace of mind
we are lacking in our souls.

Some of us are littered on the streets
but in truth the rest of us
do not notice them at all.
And if we do it is only to throw
a quarter at the refuse
to appease our sense of morality.
After all, these street people
are just lazy. That is how we
justify our inhumanity to them.

It is more important to become a
fashion plate and pay hundreds of
dollars for a label than it is to ensure
that our streets are clean and
our fellow humans are washed
and fed and given a sense
of belonging.

How easily we discard the poor!
Let the dogs and cats of the world
tear into them. We can watch them
on our televisions and cluck our tongues
thankful we are much better. Like
garbage bags on the streets, we see
but do not hear their words.

Better that we champion the causes
that so enlighten our hearts!
Make sure that we vote in perfect
harmony on the immorality that
has become our way of being.

Oh yes, murder the babies if they
are inconvenient. And by all means
allow the marriages to fall apart
if these marriages do not bring
us contentment. Bastardize the
sacrament by pretending that two
men can make a couple. Oh yes, that
is evidence of our progress!

But let the windows stay firmly shut.
Let our air conditioners block our hearts
so we do not have to smell
the garbage in our streets.