Rubbish

 

I got to thinking about all

the crap we collect and amass

over a lifetime. Closets,

basements, atics, garages full

of papers, pictures, nick-nacks

clothes and what-nots, nuts,

bolts, containers, you name it,

no longer wanted or needed,

useless stuff accumulated over

the years. Primative man,

especially the nomatic breed,

had need of very little, had

to have a light load to carry

about from place to place,

warm clothing and weapons

for hunting and scirmishes.

He lived off the land and

usually found what he

needed to survive along

the way. And when he died

his people or tribe either

rolled him into a ditch,

piled rocks over his remains

or set him aflame. They took

his spear, his bow and arrows,

his knife and moved along.

Ah, even in death, the simple

life. No bank files, taxes, wills

and reports, no watches, rings,

jewelry or valuables to assess

and give away. Uncle Bill, he

collected junk. Aunt Bessie,

she was a hoarder with a house

full of clutter. Everything they

owned was either bought or

made by someone else. Can’t

just set fire to the whole damn

mess.It’s against city ordances.

Face it, we have become a

nation of pack rats, and when

we pass on we’ll have left

behind one hell of a mess

for some unlucky friend

or relative to handle.

Future anthropologists

will have their hands full,

sifting through widespread

landfill wastelands of

rubbish material grubbing

mankind has carelessly

left behind.

             -30-

Chris Hanch 5-1-2022