Trash talking

Honor me with waste
Compartmentalized.

Eyes have got your back.
Defiance is despised.

Sorting through our scraps,
Inspecting every find.

Sift and sort and stack.
Join the heart and mind

With repositioned earth.
Only as our measure,

Doing what we’re told,
Mattering our treasure.

More than dust we are,
More than carbon black

Near the garbage can,
Who is talking back?

Jeremiah 2:27 -“Saying to a tree, ‘You are my father,’ And to a stone, ‘You gave birth to me.’ For they have turned their back to Me, and not their face. But in the time of their trouble They will say, ‘Arise and save us.'”

Anti-Ark

(The following is inspired by a weekly event within an autistic school setting)

Dragging bags of plastic bottles, schlepping down the stair,

Saving earth, for mother nature, retain your blankest stare.

 At periodic stalls you’ll see, teachers prodding tenderly,

Down the hall and out the door, packing trash, the bus back door

Warning buzzer sounds alarm, nothing here at all is wrong,

Right outside the classroom window, one short bus recycle limo.

Kids tread in, autistic bandits, down the street to save the planet.

Though so few do understand it, sacred tasks to them remanded.

Vaccinated with our dung, so innocent, so very young.

Sold to put our mind at ease, from epidemics of disease.

Their crippled selves must now repay, by moving trash around all day.

There they go our trash bandidos, paid off in kind with bags of Fritos.

Numbers rising upward strong, on them we now rely upon, to

Provide work, to fill the void, to watch over their lives destroyed.

 No one dare reject or be, a job that serves humanity.

With numbers high enough you see, we’ll celebrate dependency.

Our world a sort of anti-ark, where two by two we’ll disembark,

Not to save us from a flood, but rather slowly let our blood.