Goodbye paper scraps and the cans
left behind after feeding the cat; goodbye
empty pens and the notepads
they skated across; goodbye to the wrappings
of plastic and foil
that contained the same food your grandmother
picked from a garden and cooked;
goodbye bones from the fish and the cork
from the bottle whose wine washed it down;
goodbye worn out shirts, the holes in your socks,
the toothbrush worn down to a stub,
with the pits and peels and packaging
from snacks that passed the time.
Watch it go down the street
where it ceases to be yours
when it turns out of sight,
out of mind, with only strangers
left to place it in the ground.
David Chorlton was born in Austria, grew up in England, and spent several years in Vienna, before moving to Phoenix in 1978. He pursued his visual art and had several shows, as well as writing and publishing his poetry in magazines and collections, the latest of which is The Devil’s Sonata from FutureCycle Press. Although he became ever more interested in the desert and its wildlife, the shadow side of Vienna emerges in his fiction and The Taste of Fog, which was published by Rain Mountain Press.