Jetsam

            (Half Of An Envelope)

            Half of an envelope brought back memories.

            The first, toddling up to Walter Cronkite,

            with a Redstone rocket in the background,

            on the television.

            Then, when I swallowed sixteen cents, and Dad said:

            “It’s gone now.”

            My third is linked to the return address!

            With my aunt, into the church.

            The place where you have to be very good.

            The light changed!

            I waited, sitting at the end of a pew.

            I waited, pondering the abiding and unseen.

            Then waiting brought an uncomfortable sensation.

            But, I waited, and then two came back.

            I told my aunt that I had to pee.

            Finished, I asked if that was God’s bathroom.

            The priest smiled a bit and left the explanation to her.

 

            (Fruit Gummy and Granola Bar Wrappers)

            (Two For One!)

            Found six blocks away from each other,

            A fruit gummy wrapper which has seen better days.

            Perhaps a few rains and melts.

            And a Granola wrapper, folded somewhat carefully,

            and left on the old brick sidewalk.

            But they’re linked! They are!

            Around the time that we get flying cars, they said,

            we may take a pill in the morning, and that’d be it.

            The implications!

            Perhaps, in the near future, they said,

            we’d have rocket shoes, we’d have this glow about us,

            and we’d subsist on something smaller than Space Food Sticks!

            Now, take out some lined paper, and write what you think the future will be like.

            Ok.

            “In the year 2000. I will stel Dannys food pills and run awy

            with my roket shoes.”

            But few knew.

            In the year 2019, food will be condensed,

            but not as much as we thought it would be.

            And, the selling point will still be what the food claims to be.

            We will walk about with something in our ear telling us that we are wonderful.

            “Well, then, someone else can deal with this trash.”

            The future is now!

            But, what about the wrappers?

            They’re fine.

            Nestled in a bin, they struck up a conversation.

            “You know, I don’t tell many wrappers this, but

            the second ingredient of what I contained

            was refined sugar.”

            “Same with me!”

            “I love the mylar finish in your lining.”

            “You’re not bad yourself, for a generic brand.”

            “Watch it, you…”

            They get closer…

            “Mwah, mwah, mwah…”

            Now, that’s endless love.

           

            (Small Peach Vodka Bottle)

            You drank some liquor.

            Threw the bottle on the ground.

            I’m really impressed.

           

            (Donut Bag)

            There once was a nosh from Nyack,

            too tempting to last the way back.

            It went down in two shakes.

            With trash left in the wake.

            Now the bag is a runaway sack.

            (Actually, like all litter featured in this piece,

            the bag was secured and disposed of properly.- Lou)

 

            (Little Rubber Ball)

            Where have you been, little ball?

            From some distant shore, in a packing case a-sealed.

            Not topple dumped, and floating to the place where balls congeal.

            Amongst a million, nestled, like a molecule animation.

            Then rudely piled up in some plasticine location.

            Freed, with cross-ed fingers and hopeful currency.

            ‘It’s not something that I need, but what I want, Mommy.’

            Eventually found, where the rubber ball had got.

            Resting in the valley of the lot.

            Where have you been, little ball?

            You bounce really well.

            You may have bounced through hell.

            It can be assumed that at one time you were happily possessed.

            They could have got the ring, but the result’s only guessed.

            To a face, there leapt a smile.

            Which was kept a fifteen-minute while…

            And, now that I think about it…

            Where have you been, little ball?

            No, really. Where have you been?

            Perhaps in a place where germs exist in gads.

            And now you’re furred and wormy, just like in the Lysol ads.

            Yuppie flu’s not just for yuppies, it’s known as ‘mononucleosis’.

            Flukes aren’t just in puppies. You could have raging psittacosis!

            There’s no lack of place to been, despite the fact you’re new.

            I shudder when considerin' what you’ve rollen through.

            Eww.