Where Rubbish Thoughts
Can Roam

Every morning, the world begins again -- with bin lids askew, coffee cooling in china mugs, and a lone pigeon casting judgment from the gutter.

Here at the edge of the day -- between the sacred and the soggy -- we gather fragments: old receipts, bruised fruit, the stubborn poetry of leftovers.

The Curbside Chronicles is a record of such moments. Stories told in crumbs and compost. Observations filtered through tea leaves and the occasional muttering seagull.

You’ll find no influencers here. Just the wind and a cracked footpath.

Mind the bins.

Had a moment this morning
Wasn't sure if I was praying
Or just pleading
Either way it boiled

There a spoon in the sink
I refuse to wash.
We're formed a bond.
She's seen things.

Watered the plants.
Apologised to the dead one.
Felt like a priest in a confessional.

The Rubbish Post 01/06/25

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