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Mystical Garbage

Mystical Garbage
 
     Believing garbage cans are scandalous
     When battered, making us seem declassé,
     My wife delivered firm commands, and thus,
     I threw away a garbage can today.
 
     And then a thrilling thought occurred to me:
     A garbage can dispatched in garbage cans!
     This seemed to me an awesome mystery —
     A paradox of great significance.
 
     So now I thought of wash cloths washed, the caps
     Of bottled glue that still could be removed,                            The vanishing, when people stood of laps,”
     And perfect products suddenly improved.
 
     I next advanced to sounds of one hand clapping,
     Heard Alan Watts, saw navels contemplated,
     Saw gurus in a trance, not merely napping,
     Saw Yin and Yang, and Huxley opiated.
 
     I told my wife these thoughts; she merely sneered —
     The can, she said, demanded termination.
     She saw, you see, a can, not what appeared
     To me an object made for meditation.

(2003)

Reprinted with permission of "Iambs and Trochees," Vol. II

Rhyme philosophical

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