When
we arrived on scene the
dump still burned, but there were not too many flames
Beneath its thin layer of sanitary dirt, methane was formed
and had ignited
Gashed mattresses, horribly soaked couches, sunken birdcages
and rancid fish smoldered
I knew I had been finally proved a sinner, finding myself in
this disgusting hell
Bleach and paint thinner, used oil and sour milk, sullied
rain and breaded cat poop
Beheaded dolls, twisted pink T-shirts, broken chicken bones
and rotting garden hoses
Rancid vegetables and jagged metal and all kinds of rejected
plastic, everywhere
Wet brown advertising material in every orientation crushed
by broken bike wheels
The bronzish smoke of hell itself filled eyes and lungs as
mice and bugs scuttled off
Of course the roar of crushers and bulldozers drowns out all
normal communication
Skeletal swingset frames groan terribly as they are
painfully twisted aside
Brake fluid coated propane cylinders bob ominously to the
slimy brown surface
Avalanche and landslide dangers keep us on toes layered deep
in pungent slime
Our water leaches out a myriad of chemicals as it begins to
flow downhill
Old-timers laugh and inhale the smoke and doubt a liquid
plume can reach the river
Half-eaten waffles coated in dirty tissue paper cover a
crumpled dress raped by a toothy 2x4
The unknown liquids of our innocent household trash leach
into a vile HazMat stew
Blowed-out tires and old chimney bricks, concrete rocks and
dirty washing machines
Sharp metal shelving shards contaminated with that muddy
paste spear at the unwary
Spattered business printouts anchored by soupcans unfold
under shady, torn-up car seats
Here and there twisted metal smokes and burns even at the
cool ground level
Heat and CO2 rise from the mattress-like surface we walk
upon to do our good work
Rotten rope from a hammock lies twisted into the undoable
knots by the hand of God
Discarded carpet partially unrolled leads one to somewhere, off
beneath the rubble
Over there an infirm pet has been committed without undue
ceremony
Box springs at odd angles trap feet and toss us face first
toward the sludge
Tarred fast food wrappers decorate discarded furniture like
they ate and ran
However,
we all remain quite complacent cause this landfill fire’s been burning for many
years
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