Waste Managed

by Fred Aiken

i’m exhausted from the noise

i’m exhausted from the thumping emanating from next door

i’m exhausted from living next to a waste management facility that never seems to want to pick up their own trash

as it overfills and overflows through weakened asphalt

trembling under the weight of fat trucks

being driven by fat trash people, places, things

strumming along

to the beat of their own drum

as noise pollution becomes heavy

metallic ore drilling through the ground

upending an upheaval long forgotten

long hidden

trying to fight through a calm panic dancing heavily on purple clouds to Valhalla