Trash

Trash

A plastic cup, submerged, still and lifeless,
only meters from where an old green bucket
lay nonchalantly on its side in the slick oily water,
the ground littered with carelessness,
a gathering wasteland of old detritus
discarded pasts of present joys left
for future generations to confess,
the arrogance and ignorance, bereft.
The packaging of innocent decadence,
littering the grounds of a manipulated recompense.
The over abundance of a formulated struggle
a strangulation of individualist egoism
imbalanced consumerism, bereft of mutual identity,
cut adrift from a temporal reality.
The severed ties, remain like chaff in the wheat.
Unwinnowed, inedible, in a collective retreat.
As the leaves fall upon the Autumnal ground,
the remnants of summers past,
lies littered in human folly,
unable to decompose,
the cacophony of a discordant mindset,
a rhapsody of disharmony
in natures cyclic symphony.
The human tree that sheds and shits
endlessly upon itself,
This dis-composition of effect,
stripped away from it's causes,
a decomposing social fabric,
evident in the trash left behind.
Unable and unwilling to cleanse itself,
of half remembered, half forgotten,
tokens and totems, remnants of an ill bred past
an imbalanced offering to our children,
future echoes of regret.
Time enough to clean it up,
time enough to wash it down.

© Richard Michael Parker 2010