WELCOME TRASH HAULERS our miles of caves where we can sell space for others' garbage: what of their possessions died and was never reborn under our feet the chambers of discarded dead at the moment before dawn their cries come up through the soil we have inherited like dew it catches in the grass they want to come back to be handled by men to be placed in womens' secret dresser drawers to be sold in some internal sidewalk sale or left along the highway again but we will not allow it was to achieve this end that we sold our underdirt and became the wardens of uselessness -- unless some providential rain floods them and us out of and off the receptive ground and so on out to sea or seas for tides to move and stars to fall in