Lovelorn Recycling at Austin City Limits

The lonely legions of wannabe lovers

Throw themselves at you like empties

At a music festival, littering the dirt

Between performances, piled by the stage.

The horde waits for the next act,

Bodies pressed against the railings,

While I shake my green bag:

"Cans here! Bottles here!" I sing,

A beacon for trash disposal. And soon

My bag is full, two-thirds my height.

The smells of beer, sweat, and piss bite

Into the furthest reaches of my nostrils.


I want to be back home under the covers,

But the music is starting up above the trees.

I yield my collection for a free T-shirt.

This is truly a disposable age,

And the line of time finally bent back

Into a circle, endlessly spiraling.

After many trips, my shoulders sag.

"Bottles here! Cans here!" I sing.

The air is sweeter and I spot the moon.

Who hurts you and who brings delight?

Experience is master. Just keep swiping right.

My free Tee is for you, waiting atop the landfills.


author collecting recyclables

Go back