Philosophers of the Dump Run by Tad Tuleja

Philosophers of the Dump Run
—For my daughter India

Remember those Saturday mornings when
We drove the week’s garbage to the landfill
In the clunker you called Funky Chicken,
Big old Pontiac, valiant stench-mobile,

Perfume of rotting fruit and coffee grinds
Hanging in the air throughout the day?
And how the odor barely crossed our minds
As we puzzled out, laughing all the way,

What if the sky was green instead of blue?
Why can’t a rhinoceros blow its horn?
Wouldn’t you like to swim in a drop of dew?
Can a pantheist find God in a can of corn?

Oh to be back in that stinky car again
When all the world was magic and you were ten.

by Tad Tuleja

Editor’s Note: Any sonnet that rhymes “landfill” with “mobile” and uses the term “Funky Chicken” deserves airtime.

Comments

4 responses to “Philosophers of the Dump Run by Tad Tuleja”

  1. Keith Snow Avatar
    Keith Snow

    Humourous editors note and excellent poem. Loved the puzzled riddles!

    1. Tad Tuleja Avatar
      Tad Tuleja

      Thanks, Keith. Glad the riddles tickled you.

  2. Sydney Lea Avatar

    Oh, Tad, I did have the same experience with my kids in the long ago, when out here in the boonies we still had open dumps, which were, oddly o not, social-gathering places. Thanks for this wonderful poem!

    1. Tad Tuleja Avatar
      Tad Tuleja

      Thanks, Sydney–glad you connected with it. Sometimes the tiny, “meaningless” moments are the best of life.

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