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

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