Monday, March 14, 2011

Gold Rush

When we brought friends along to visit Frontier Town
I remember the midway booth where they gave you sieves
for a buck and let you pan for gold was always a hit
with the other kids, but I never saw the appeal.
It just dawned on me that this motion was less novel
when one grew up with cats and chores.
It never occurred to me that sifting through muck
would turn up anything but shit, although
it did make sense that this task could be a job.
Fifteen years later and nothing's changed.
I still expect my digging to reveal only danker
truths than what's visible on the surface,
but I'm still pretty sure it's my job,
and that we're all better for it. No sense
in letting the litter box stink up the place.