we know them well, the ones who empty
their ashtrays into the night leaving a stream
of white butts scattered along the shoulder,
for someone else to pick up.
we stoop to pick up an empty bottle of Strawberry vodka,
a plastic six pack holder, another empty can of
Bud Light, a Styrofoam take-out.
We know them well by their scat, its odor,
its ubiquitousness on every highway across America ,
the white trash that throw trash.
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