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.

Glint

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.

postscript

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