Now There's A Dumpster



The stench seems to drift with the wind; that's okay
Seems like there's more flies around it ev'ryday
The spray-painted swastika doesn't bother me
But now there's a dumpster where third base should be.

The kids now hit rocks with their bats; not balls
For noise, kids throw stones at the brown metal walls
I understand the can is necessary
But now there's a dumpster where third base should be.

I used to play third, so many years ago
I could count on this field like a friend, you know?
But these kids today can't; that's what bothers me
Because there's a dumpster where third base should be.

I grew up on this nearly over-run dirt
Sliding and diving; laughing and getting hurt
But now rats and glass dominate; by design
For that brown trunk of death down the third base line.

1999 WetSpot Poetry





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