Poems & Thoughts of Rob Taylor

Poem · January 1, 2014

The Dump

Not having been for a while, my trip reminded me how I love the dump -- which includes wood, and metal piles. Pieces of old wood -- throw them on the pile. Old pieces of metal -- throw them on the pile. Used and worn wood and metal truly are traces of fundamental life, inescapable records of our going on, and the dump has big piles of them. What's more, you can just throw them around!

memory · work