Before We Open It

If landfills became cemeteries
would there be more or fewer flies?

Your loved one six feet down
rests against a ten year old disposable diaper.

I might conclude the underworld
is the land before the landfill filled the landscape.

And with what? Our midden moxie.
All things broken unless exposed to be toxic.

What a site for future archeologists—
busy unearthing wrong conclusions about our culture.

Or maybe not. Maybe the layers upon layers
will develop enough pressure

to realign carbon compounds
into diamonds.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney


In the parkway, near the orange construction cone,
a tiny car burrows into the ground.

It may have mistaken the shovel thrust
for the Bat Cave or other superhero headquarters.

Beneath the chassis, a hand deep,
an Indian head penny feels its first damp air

in over a century
in the company of a Moxie bottle cap.

copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney


Yesterday’s Hot Wheels care provided more inspiration, though this is a fancy in that none of the items was found beneath the car.