Take Out the Trash

Gather up your withered week,
Empty cans of time,
Burnt bagels and dry tea bags,
Wrangled worries as dead vines.

Rusted fantasies, old with tears,
A twisted peel of lime,
Calls returned and rumpled away,
Chocolate wrappers numbering nine.

Gather up your withered week,
Choke it in a knot.
Condemn it to the curb alone,
Soak your mind and scour the rot.

-jb, 1999