It comes slowly, oh so slowly.


The Trash Regime

Coming home one looks

for changes at the house

that stood vacant during

an eventful day

bearing the brunt

of riot and pillage;

coming home there was

a surprise for me,

or rather a shock as

such surprises usually are

for a home owner.

The green trash container

stood next to my driveway

as the monolith discovered

on the moon

by the space odyssey of 2001

with a note attached.

I wonder sometimes

how my father felt

when the Nazis marched

into Prague.

There must have been

the burning throat feeling,

the queasiness in the stomach

that came with anger

and helplessness at the same time

that I felt as I stared at this

monolith of a plastic

garbage can with a note

which stated, "Waste Disposal

is now your trash disposal

provider."

There was a schedule

attached -- my trash day

was Wednesday.

I did not require

trash pick up in the past

since I had an alternative

arrangement and had no

desire for trash pick up

by Waste Disposal.

I called Waste Disposal.

"With whom do I have the pleasure

of speaking?" The woman asked..

"I hope the pleasure lasts," I said.

I gave my name and told her I

did not require trash pick up.

The green garbage can would

have to be removed.

"I'm sorry you feel that way

but trash pick up is required

in your city and Trash Disposal

was awarded the trash collection

contract."

"NO TRASH IS TO BE PICKED UP

AT MY PROPERTY, NO BILLS FOR

TRASH PICK UP WILL BE PAID,

YOU MUST REMOVE YOUR TRASH

CONTAINER FROM MY PROPERTY."

"I'm sorry you feel that way sir,

but your city made this arrangement

on your behalf."

"AM I A CHILD?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way sir."

"Ok, I'll talk to the city

and be in contact with you."

I would speak to my city

councilman who ran a barber shop

up the street.

Fascists! The city council

and city manager must have been

approached by Waste Disposal.

They made a sweetheart deal.

The council would require everybody

to have trash collection service,

then Waste Disposal would pick up

everybody's trash for a fee

a portion of which would go back

to the city, I was sure,

a well disguised kickback.

I would give a speech

at the next city council meeting.

I would inquire if there were

any lawyers on the council. Any Jews?

You lawyers! You Jews! Did you ever

hear of anti trust laws? The Constitution

of the United States? Property rights?

You can't force an obligation to

pay for a service without a contract and

a contract can only take place between

parties willing to contract of their

own free will. You Jews! (There were

probably a few or at least one.)

You betrayed the memory of your

ancestors at Auschwitz with this

ordinance! This is dictatorship!

This is fascism! I would execute

a Nazi salute to the city council.

There would be a picture of me

in the newspaper.

This was the time for me to speak.

Consequences be damned!

But I would speak to the city councilman

first very nicely and get him to spill

some beans about the sweetheart deal.

I dropped by his shop during a busy time.

He caught my eye with fatigued recognition

as he cut hair.

He was the over worked city official

and business man. I collected my

thoughts. "Seems there's a new garbage

man in town."

Everyone nodded with a smile.

"Waste Disposal came in with the low bid."

The explanation was preemptive

as if clearing up a sophomoric issue.

The theater was exquisite.

"Did the council pass an ordinance

recently requiring garbage collection."

"Oh," a pained expression,

profound apology,

"that was passed about twenty

years ago. It was around forever."

The sweethearts of the dim past

were the fascists.

"Well, I haven't had garbage collection

since I have a dumpster I can go to."

"We heard of others in that situation,

go talk to the city manager."

I was tremendously relieved.

"Well, I'll tell ya, that green

trash can was a fine 'how do you do.'"

The councilman laughed.

"I suddenly remembered that movie,

The Book Thief, where in that

innocent German village things keep

happening and one day this

SS guy walks up to this

homeowner and says, 'we are inspecting

basements today. We need to check

your basement.'"

The councilman chuckled. "We wouldn't

pass an ordinance like that."

The rapid shake of the head.

"Well, thanks for straightening me

out on this. I'm reassured."

"Ok." He caught my eye

with a grin lit like a light bulb.

I left and drove home past the

quaint houses, every one with

a green garbage container

by the driveway as if marking

the presence of an epidemic.

The next day I received a bill

from Waste Disposal for the

purchase of the green plastic

garbage container.

I considered talking to the

city manager. But the container

looked so attractive really,

an apocalyptic monolith from Venus,

Eternity, Birth, Deity, Evolution

and it was so large with wheels,

its style thrilled me as a trinket

found in a Cracker Jack box.

I should play

ball with this situation really

along with the innocent village,

we would see how things go.

Later perhaps I would lead

a revolt against a fee increase.

I filled my beautiful green can full of

trash, there was so much,

and I discovered so much more!

I set it out Tuesday night.

The silence of the early morning

light of Wednesday was

violated with a distant growling

of the deus ex machina, its

spotlights piercing the mist,

its hydraulics howling like a herd

of elephants, the growling of

the diesel becoming louder as

an approaching Tiger Panzerkampfwagen

with shock troops coming for my trash.







Poetry by Peter J. Kautsky
Read 1111 times
Written on 2014-02-09 at 02:07

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