Living the American Dream. It is a beautiful clear summer day, not yet
hot. Done with the gardening, turning to
the ever present grill to barbeque, and realize you’re no longer standing;
there is nothing to fight, nothing to quit, not a thought. Groggy,horizontal, irrational, forgetting, falling.
A distant familiar growling, the sound of an overburdened cart toted
across a grass path long hard packed by foot traffic. Back laying in bed half lucid at dawn, or at
least it is bright, it must be garbage day the sun is not yet up; turn from the
light and thank God both sides of the pillow are cool. Who was at the barbeque, was the lady on the polyvinyl chloride inflatable box there? Why was
there always an attractive woman on the polyvinyl chloride inflatable box? Did it influence the conditioning of the
persons who bought it? Because they have
good taste. Grilling cheap sirloin four
to five minutes on a side, its done but you still have to work for it a little,
kids are playing nearby quietly but, can’t turn around, stuck looking at the
fence with the wind at ear, the sun on face, refreshing warmth and a cool glass
of water. A mechanical grumbling in the distance. It IS garbage day and the truck is coming! Sitting straight up in bed, heart racing, remembering, the
rubbish had been handled the night before.
Self pride grows with awareness, consciousness, experience, realization
that no one will be dragging the garbage across the street in their under pants
in anticipation of the trucks return journey for the other side of the
street. Or racing refuse out as someone
had been earlier when they woke the neighbors.
No one will have to load the trash in a car and drive trash a half mile
around the neighborhood to the other side of the block at night to throw trash
in the dumpster; of course, no one had, had to do that since some kids had
kicked holes in the fence. Now it is
only a short walk, and no leaking in the car.
Lucid, lost at dawn half awake in exurbia, who airbrushes a family on a box of fun noodles anyway?
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