Dumpster Diving, New Mexico

  by Terry Blanchard

Warped steel lid flipped back Monday 
prior to weekly pickup finds Mertyl 
and Harriet deep for contents, cool cash, untaxed
but sometimes sticky with mystery goo.
Crushed aluminum buys a can for Maxie
small payoff, small needs
like Payless shoes and 'GPCs'
and Oh! for a cup at Broadway Q's
not much to say, nothin's happened
for years 'cept 'Wheel of Fortune' on the 'RCA'
"But hey, it's time well spent, we don't really dive
we're cared for by the government."

When Mertyl and Harriet go to their dump,
it's the vinyl heaven we dream about
old 'Folgers' cans, Dollar-Store china,
found stuff, still bagged by the door
and rabbit ears bent that Sunday when
two-day donuts on the bottom shelf
found breath mint candy, loose in a cup
with a Dentine wrapper on page 42, 
'Goodman's Sun Signs'
"work hard, party late with cheese pizza
on clean dishes and LA Law,
grainy but part of the good life."

Back at the dumpster
Mertyl and Harriet, the find of the month
AM-FM cassette, speakers and shelf unit 
three boards, two uprights
flake board to be painted, renailed
like winged mercury, olive green
no worries nor husbands, just Medicare
as pork chops sizzle in the Teflon pan
they call it 'Gracie' for the offset 
handle they like it for.
It's Tuesday and 'Extreme Makeover'
gags sanity in the living room.

Mertyl died that night
couldn't keep the fabric tight enough
Harriet didn't cry, "It's a thing of the past"
but hasn't a clue for the future
as if any of us do.
She chops three carrots,
a washed, four-eyed spud  
to a saucepan they called 'Louie'
then twists the gas knob to the stove
clutching box of matches, she shuts 
the window and sits on the faded chair
making lap for little Maxie.