07 March 2006
NEWS: The Garbage Man Did Not Cometh
Dateline: An Alley Bursting At The Lid
Whither the garbage men? Every Tuesday residents of this old neighborhood have been awakened by the reassuring sounds of a diesel truck and hydraulic masher, the familiar rituals of the garbage men.
Like a cyclical death and rebirth the garbage men would take away the detritus of the past, leaving empty cans gapingly awaiting the future. The garbage men were of course much welcomed by the denizens who excreted their jetsam and flotsam out to the alley in back. Even if the men were heard to speak loudly in their strange language (which consists of only three words: Yo!, More! and Bi'more!) at pre-alarm-clock hours. For they were the harbingers of a new day, a new dawn. The old day they loaded, mashed and carted to a mob run landfill out of state.
But today something happened that troubled locals. The garbage men did not come. What is more, due to unforeseen heavy expunging, every garbage can out in the alley is brimming with refuse. In fact, late tossing outtakers were forced to leave boxes on to top of the cans.
A constipated gloom has settled on these old houses. Neighbors imagine vermin infestation and worse, bum infestation. One resident complained that the garbage can in his kitchen is full but he has nowhere to unload it.
The inhabitants of what was once a garbage free neighborhood ask, whither the garbage men? As they stare forlornly at the bloated receptacles flush with the ample evidence of entropy and used up life, little in the way of answers arrive.
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Whither the garbage men? Every Tuesday residents of this old neighborhood have been awakened by the reassuring sounds of a diesel truck and hydraulic masher, the familiar rituals of the garbage men.
Like a cyclical death and rebirth the garbage men would take away the detritus of the past, leaving empty cans gapingly awaiting the future. The garbage men were of course much welcomed by the denizens who excreted their jetsam and flotsam out to the alley in back. Even if the men were heard to speak loudly in their strange language (which consists of only three words: Yo!, More! and Bi'more!) at pre-alarm-clock hours. For they were the harbingers of a new day, a new dawn. The old day they loaded, mashed and carted to a mob run landfill out of state.
But today something happened that troubled locals. The garbage men did not come. What is more, due to unforeseen heavy expunging, every garbage can out in the alley is brimming with refuse. In fact, late tossing outtakers were forced to leave boxes on to top of the cans.
A constipated gloom has settled on these old houses. Neighbors imagine vermin infestation and worse, bum infestation. One resident complained that the garbage can in his kitchen is full but he has nowhere to unload it.
The inhabitants of what was once a garbage free neighborhood ask, whither the garbage men? As they stare forlornly at the bloated receptacles flush with the ample evidence of entropy and used up life, little in the way of answers arrive.
###
