Styrofoam cup tumbleweed careens through the city, colliding briefly with a carton containing the last quarter of a MacDonald's quarter-pounder, then gambols away again along the gutter where a half-eaten pizza slice is draped over the curbside like a melting Dali clock.
On the sidewalk, fragments of abandoned black bean and rice burrito filling form an intriguing trail for an urban Hansel and Gretl to follow, provided they don't slip on those discarded grease paper wrappers and snap their ankles.
Come nightfall, you might expect the infamously ravenous city rats to gorge themselves on this improperly-disposed-of, all-you-can-eat buffet of fast food leftovers. But they don't. And neither do the squirrels, skunks or pigeons. Apparently, even the vermin regard such deep-fried and processed garbage as inedible poison to be avoided. It must await removal by the weekly street sweepers, or occasionally a concerned citizen might pick it up cautiously between finger and thumb and toss it in the roadside trash can if there is one.
Meanwhile, the Styrofoam cup tumbleweed rolls on down toward the river, either to drift out to sea or float off upstream to suburbia and beyond. So we bid 'bon voyage' to the non-biodegradable thing. No doubt we shall see it again, bobbing around amid the plastic bottles in the oil slick and silt in the polluted harbor of some distant land.
Ah, this waste is your waste, this waste is my waste, from the Dominoes Pizza to the Burger King, from the Waffle House drive-thru to the Taco Bell, this waste was made for you and me.
