Best Garbage Truck Poems

One habit to which I adhere
I clean out my Ford once a year
Back seat yet to fill
Keep truckin’ until
I’m no longer able to steer...

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As we stop, I pull out my jar of Vic's vapor rub 
I put some up my nostrils, this job you cannot love 
But it...

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On Mondays when I babysit,
There's one thing that's a certain hit - 
A visit from the garbage truck
(Unless the need for naptime's struck).

We hear the...

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One more morning,after one more night,
One more thanks for keeping things right,
One prayer to bed,one as you rise,
Good morning God,thanks for another sun rise,
Prayer is...

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When pebbles knead the holes in my shoes
These torn eyes writhe from  my orphan blues,
A lost soul quivering in the cold...
I feel alone, a...

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Plants swaying, beautiful sky, softest feeling
Clouds crusted in white with gray centers
An unexpected warmth to the air this morning.
Any hope of rain? I peer at...

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Two Scavengers in a Truck,
Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes

At the stoplight waiting for the light
nine a.m. downtown San Francisco
a bright yellow garbage truck
with two...

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Mornings are beautiful at the screen door!
Trees swaying with the gentle breeze
Birds are chirping their hello
Noise of a busy street - steady zoom of cars

Apartment...

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Our wheelie bin gives me a grin,
When I put my brother in,
I push him hard from the rear,
He yells out loud, " NO rubbish here,"
We...

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The restless night had ended
abruptly. Caught between dreams and
consciousness, the town was arching towards
the sprinkled light of dawn. A perpetual regularity 
reigned over the dusty...

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Dust bunny, dust bunny I see you as you
make your escape under the sofa hoping that
the big, noisy, red contraption that I push around
won't fit...

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for under 10$ an hourly wage
you too can be the lucky one
who rides around on the back of a pungent & filthy green
garbage truck for...

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Here I am again computer; it’s another day with me
It’s too bad you don’t have eyes so you could really see

It is actually morning, the...

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Care free driving down the lain, 
sites of yesteryear refrain, 
Children playing inn there yards, 
Tattered houses somewhat scarred. 
  
Traveling inn gay apparel,...

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I am a plain Jane,
a non-descriptive woman
who lives on Dreary Lane,
my world revolves around 
my kitty called Pretty who
was adopted from the lost and found,
I...

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