-Sheree Fitch
on Thursdays we hear the crunch of the garbage truck
run to watch the garbage man working
underneath the sun
he is young and tanned and wears no shirt
just cut-off jeans
his hair is honey blond
beneath a red scarf turban
a medallion on a chain
dances on his chest
as he builds up his momentum
ornag-utan swinging from truck to curb
half-running half-leaping
with a rhythm that suggests
he is keeping time to music
the sun shining down on his shoulders
sweat-slippery biceps bulging
hamstrings hard as hammers
pirouetting pirate
in an innovative free-style
garbage day ballet
we call the garbage man
Baryshnikov
I tell my children
watch him and remember
when
you do the thing you do with joy
you create a thing of beauty
this is the challenge and the task
of being human:
to take all life's garbage
transform it into dance
I bore them with my metaphor
and my children always wary
of my vision from my window
think he's just a man
in a hurry
to get home for a beer
