untitled no. 9

o;p&o vol. 1

where does all this garbage go

that i put on the street?

and when it’s gone, why does the air

still smell so doggone sweet?

there must be some magician man

that disappears our trash

for, where else would we put so big

a heaping, smelly stash?

i’m sure it’s not the ocean blue

that takes what we don’t use

we wouldn’t be so dumb to light

that dangerous a fuse

it’s foo…