A Dehydrated Box of Potatoes
Garbage is my life.
In this our day, this our time,
the year of somebody’s lord two
thousand and three, I find hope
in a box-top with the expiration date
of two thousand and six.
America’s capitalist vision has told me
there are at least three more years.
On cardboard, in a throwaway society,
I find hope.
first published through Triod.com: taken from “Some Notes on 21st Century Sorcery”.