Other People’s Lives

Thanks to Norma Ketzis Bernstock for permission to print her poem, below, written after cleaning up roadsides in Pike County as a volunteer. See story, "Serious litter chokes Pike": http://bit.ly/1O4cMts

People who litter drink beer, cheap beer,
Say the brown bottles of Budweiser,
The cans of Miller Light that weigh down my plastic trash bag, cans flattened,
And some half full, fire water for grass.

Litter bugs smoke Marlboro, Camels
And Newport Lights, their telltale
Colored cartons conspicuous on the road.
Chobani yogurt cantainers surprise me
But not McDonald’s and Dunkin’
Donut coffee cups and paper bags.

People who litter have children
Says the Fisher-Price doll house,
The plastic family and furniture
On its side, in disarray,
Perhaps like its owners.

And the artificial Christmas tree,
Lights still entwined in its branches,
A stained satin star on the top,
Discarded like a painful memory.

I haven’t a clue about the socks,
More than two dozen scattered
In clumps on the road, blue
And black and red cotton crews.

Lovers quarrel then trash their songs
Say the circles of tape pulled loose
From cracked cassettes, "My Girl"
And "Sweet Thing" tossed in the dirt.

But the biggest shock, the sex toy,
Life-sized fleshy pink, barely
Visible from under dead leaves.
More than I care to know
About other people’s lives.

By Norma Ketzis Bernstock