No Beer Cans
There are no beer cans on the Moon,
though there should be, one would think.
Water is nearly everywhere,
and everything rains but the kitchen sink:
methane, sulfur, diamonds, lead.
Every place churns, nothing is dead.
How real are these people more advanced than us?
Why don't they throw trash from their relative bus?
Why no beer cans?
Why no robots that shit garnet turds?
Why no lizards that travel in herds?
If we are the roadside, why no junk?
There should be something, I woulda thunk.
Could this mean no "take out" in the perfect world we'll get?
No beer cans on the Moon. . . . Not yet.
John B. Medeiros, May 2019
Back to: (Poems) by John Manimas or (Very Short) Stories or (Time Works) or (Quick Directory) or (Welcome) page