The Inconvenience of Trash
or when the snow stops beating the ground like it is
her private drum
there will be no more remorse
Elizabeth P. Glixman
The man on the local radio station says
Hold your trash until after the blizzard
No one will pick it up
The wind is traveling like Amtrak
The cans, the bottle, the chicken bones
Especially the wishbones
The newspapers
Hold them
Somewhere in your arms
In your bed with crackers and old teddy bears
On the sagging back porch in your rubber green recycled bins
Do not take the trash to the state park
By moonlit lakes while coyotes howl
Do not leave it by the side of the road with the Johnny Walker bottle
Or the punctured rimless car tires
Do not leave it
Near the train tracks
Where a nameless prostitute with long black hair was found dead
You must hold your trash
Like you hold other things
When you were a child in the back seat of your parents’ car
And your dad said Hold it
You crossed your white legs
For hours it seemed
Then glory hallelujah and amen
You saw the orange roof of the Howard Johnson on the highway
The bathrooms were not always clean but
You knew relief would come soon
The trash truck stops at the curb in front of your house
You hear your father say okay now
You put out the trash with no remorse
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