When I pick up litter from a pile or collection, I don’t always pick up all of it. I imagine conversations in my head if someone asked why I left some. Sometimes the drug users in Washington Square Park will point me to pieces I didn’t pick up. I think they feel like they’re doing me a favor, maybe based on thinking I like picking up trash just because and not condescending.
Anyway, I think the following words, which I’m deciding comprise a poem.
I’m not going to pick up everything.
But I’m going to pick up something.
I’m not going to pick up nothing.
Will you pick up anything?
I’m no poet, so don’t ask me if it counts as rhyming when the words are as close as everything, something, nothing, and anything. And I don’t think I have a consistent meter, but I’m calling it a poem.
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