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"No Trash
Fat & Bone
Only"
By Samuel Wharton
What a crime
to disobey this unexpected
gray receptacle! And what could be
the consequence? Plastic
still holds its shape
and our scrap. Holds
a place by our apartment
pool. Holds explanations
at bay. Or maybe
our interest is piqued?
Maybe we should take
a peek inside?
What would be hidden
there? The parts
we don’t want:
pearled globule groups,
the big bones
from our mother’s side,
our father’s hunching spine.
Or digging even further
down, pull out stigma,
fetish, years of heaped-on
style. Throw them back
and we have nothing left.
No body, not without what’s
cast off. After all,
the structures we live by
include us, and nothing’s
so disposable
as lipid sentiment
or the calcified scaffold
we build our lives on.
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