Ode à Garbäzh

Instead of endless rants about our current state of decadence and offenses against taste and decency emanating from a lack of theology and geometry, I have decided to repent, ephemerally of course, and take action against the very plague that...well...plagues us. However, due to a grad student's nutritional requirements and the resulting American national fiscal deficit, my plans for world domination by disguising my Noodle-Noggin Doll as Janet Jackson's right nipple have been somewhat quashed. My impenetrable sense of responsibility and moral conviction, however, do not provide me the luxury of backing down. What little I can do lies in the power of verse.

Humanity has many unsung heroes. Drones who create the colony and yet are sacrificed without question when the situation whispers for it. As their phantoms rise from the grave, all they hear is the thankless silence of the civilization they built, grinding on. Banal romanticists may worship the unnamed soldier, the engraving on the wall. I'm sure it's tough; virtually limitless job security, benefits which extend to the entire family, bedding women at every port while knowing that if you make it home, you'll be someone's hero. Cursed...really.

No, I speak of societiy's true unsung hero : the garbage man.

Work-in-progress.