In November I joined the recycling team, with an art degree, I'm a dumpster dive queen.

If the #1 plastic is rocking and rumbling, that's just me in there grousing and grumbling

Chucking stuff out that folks shoudnt've chucked in, and why can't they tell aluminum from tin?

Folks stop by and chat, of their skills they are proud. "some people are such slobs", they shout it out loud.

I agree from my perch as I fish for more junk, while proud shouter approaches with big styrofoam hunk.

One errant informed but I can't celebrate. what shall we do about the other 98?

Write editor again or start charging fines? life would be great if they'd just read the signs.

Oh look, here's some panties and a bottle of gin, some cigarettes and boxer shorts in the aluminum bin.

Must've been fun, I thought with a grin, but how the heck did they get in?

Now here comes a car, mad as can be, "why don't you take milk jugs?" they implore onto me.

I am told I am sweet, not known to be haughty, but today I find it pretty hard not to answer them snotty.

Our kin back in Norway in the mountains up high can tell corrugated from paperboard in the blink of an eye.

They say everyone knows this, its a total no brainer, the corrugated goes to a separate container.

But here in our town, we're a little behind, with booboos and oopses that us monitors find.

Its a rare and wonderful breed don't you see, who are willing to work unseen and for free.

In gloppy wet snow and in sun's blazing heat, with sticky gross fingers and soggy wet feet.

We yank bags of beer cans from high windows and slits, with green milk and pop syrup running down our armpits.

We clean up for others who won't do it themselves, they must think we work magic like angels and elves.

To make disappear huge assortments of frap, like TV's and fenders and bags of ghost crap.

We thank the majority who read signs and do right, doing their part to keep our work light.

And to those who ne'er got it and will go on to do more, may your gene pool decrease and your life be a bore.

Folks might whine and complain that we closed our door, but deep down in their hearts they know we did more

Than could be expected to be done for free, and this town will remember us most gratefully.

Hats off to the ones who so selflessly gave, an example, a model, a way to behave.

So raise your glass high and give a big cheer for our site keepers, monitors, faithful and dear.

— Dawn Kranz
January 2010

[The North Rd / Chumstick Recycling Site closed in the fall of 2009]