Tuesday, July 19, 2011

garbage day

I woke up to the sound of a garbage truck. I admire sanitary engineers. They're in good shape, working hard in heat and cold, in terrible smell, slop and filth. I shook off the chains of sleep, got out of the pulpit of dream and stopped preaching to myself long enough to get dressed and hurry out for fresh air. I saw chicken bones on the grass. Small animals and crows sometimes tear open garbage bags. The flies were having a real feast.

To experience the full power of garbage day, take a walk down the strip of small grocery stores and restaurants. The smell is overpowering. Sometimes bags explode, releasing rotten material on to the street. A bag of fish slop exploded, giving off an amazing smell. Liquid pours from the back of the truck and on to the pavement as the compressor compacts the garbage. This liquid is particularly potent in smell. I laughed as a woman came out of a shop and put a handkerchief over her mouth and nose to block out the smell. I felt the vividness of existence in that moment.

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