The Visit of a Thousand Smells

brought us to another

side of town --

years before ‘baled refuse’

and environment-protecting ‘cells’

became the standard

where pal Eddie once lived.

He of the mustard sandwiches

on that gravel-stinky

Dump Road, a site to avoid,

a mysterious place where

good breathing was absent.

We bicycled past sloppy trucks

filled with debris

for the burning, moldy

cardboard and leftover mattresses

at the top of the list.

Not just road dust caused

the holding

of noses. Yet he

was worth the visit. Come

and see where I live

he invited.

Took us to his treasure

of islands, heaped up garbage

riding the countryside

humped like the Sahara --

mice and other vermin

worrying our bare feet. We

could see creative possibilities

in a kind of fun day.

Plans included fishing

that teased us past the next road

loose pebble-stone directing  

our path, mustard sandwiches

held tightly in our minds.