Ode To A Garbage Man

18 Sep

Day 8 of the 90 in 90 blog challenge.

Oh, Garbage Man.
How you drive your garbage truck with passion.
The way you scoot by,
Filling my panting mouth with the taste-smell
of baby diapers,
the underside of a trucker’s thigh,
and Indian cuisine.
It makes my heart soar to see you.
Because when I’m running,
Finally got my butt out of bed for a work out
and I’m on the final huge hill of the day,
running up-up-UP… panting, heaving,
drilling myself in my head
“COME ON YOU WEAK WHORE!
YOU CAN MAKE IT UP THIS HILL!”
sweat dripping down my forehead, into my nose,
in my mouth,
where it mixes with a string of slimy saliva and expletives,
I see you approaching…
There- just there- in your truck of endless odors.
And as I run by, panting, cursing this forsaken hill,
I must tell you, dear-
I appreciate the wolf whistle.
Oh, you may think I am lying to you when I say this,
You brave Warrior of Waste.
But I speak only truth.
For it is your, “Whee wfhhoo! HEY BAY-BEE! YEAHHH! WOOOHOO!!!”
Mixed with the ever present putrid scent
of both you, and your truck,
That gives me the strength to kick it into
“fight or flight” mode.
Without you, I would have stopped and walked up that hill.
Thank you, dear sweet tempered Garbage Man.
For all that you have unknowingly done.
May all of your days be filled to the brim with
human waste,
rotting food,
and disgusting, sweaty, spitting, smelly
young females along your route,
of whom you can always unknowingly embarrass,
and encourage.

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