the writer is the speaker, or How I Became Shiny
Braking behind a big beat-up box truck
that’s stopped by a garbage can
someone has parked
at the edge of their driveway,
I recognize the skewed
“SL” spray painted largely
on the side of the truck
as the initials of
Shiny Lee
who people in the county pay
$30 a month
to pick up their trash,
but there’s something else
about “SL”
that makes my brain hiccough
a few times
until I get it:
That’s Me
I am SL
I am Shiny.
4 thoughts on "the writer is the speaker, or How I Became Shiny"
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so cool
in robertson co.
we use to have junior litton
(omg) does every poet
have a garbage man doppelgänger
(unfortunately junior died
now we have Rumpke)
Must be so! 😂
That’s a cool observation,. but don’t you dare equate yourself with trash.
It’s was just a surreal feeling, an unfinished poem…something to explore in revisions, or not, although I do like the idea of a “garbage man doppelgänger.”