No Litter (Honest!)
Once a receipt blew out of my car.
I swear I stopped,
chased it into the greasewood,
crumpled it into my pocket. No trash
can in sight, what else could I do?
No littering for me. No gum
wrappers, ciggie butts
not one can or bottle, no
popsicle stick dropped
like a bad joke at the dinner table.
I’ve picked up your trash too, friends,
followed behind as you spread
your gluttony along
streets and sidewalks. I’ve coughed
loudly so you’d notice. (you didn’t)
I recycled what you littered: cans,
papers, flattened cardboard
boxes you left to rot in vacant lots.
I’ve even picked up pooches
you rejected, dropped off in the desert.
As for apple cores, banana skins, crusts,
peach pits: these I happily fling
wherever the concrete ends. Back to nature!
I shout, knowing the same thrill I felt
in ‘77 when I recycled my first husband.