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”.

 

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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