Dustbin Man

30 Day Poetry Challenge Day 10
Prompt: windshield wipers

How nice
to see a desolate man,
a deprived, shanty man
wake up in the morning dew,
in the soft shadow
of a municipal dustbin.

The windshield wipers,
of your city car,
cleaning away the same dew
that settles on the man's
curly, matted hair.

It's nice too that
the blast of the car AC
and the automated glass
blocks out the rancid smell
of the deplored outside.

If you shake your newspaper
- just so -
it seems that the man,
as if by magic,
disappears from the peripheral
of your eyes.

And now,
statistics: everything is great,
Rise of the Middle Class,
new international coffee shops,
gourmet food for dogs
(special bred German dogs).

If only the man outside
could turn into a dog,
preferably, a German dog,
how much more he could
be loved and fed
by the likes of you.

As you stare determinedly
at your hedonist daily,
the man outside shakes his head
and disappears behind the
municipal dustbin.


  1. That line about the dog is so true. I have so much more sympathy for animals than I do for people. Then again, animals won't fake it, but humans certainly can. It's hard to tell who's genuine and who's just trying to scam a buck off of you.

  2. And this is why I stay inside as much as possible. I can't fix these things, and it doesn't do me any good to be reminded of it.