Trash Collector by Bogdan Dragos

Image Source: Canva

I don’t know what was

more impressive

about him

the fact that he

collected trash

in a bag that was

at least three

times bigger than himself

and carried that bag

on his back

or the fact that

it was winter

and he was only

in shorts

and wasn’t cold

That one evening when

he approached me

in the store’s parking lot

he asked if I’d

seen any cans

I reached into my

shopping bag

and gave him one.

A can of beer

He shook his head

at it. “Nah, man, I can’t

take it like this.”

“What d’ you mean?”

I asked

He pointed at

it. “This ain’t trash,

man. It’s a perfectly

fine can

of beer. I only

take trash.”

Something told me that

the time

and the place was not

for arguing or

demanding explanations

You don’t just

ask a man like him to

explain himself. You just

go on with his

view of the world

So I opened the can

and spilled some

beer on the pavement

and crumpled

the can in my hand

a bit

then I pointed it

to him

He smiled

and reached for it. “Thanks,

man. You’re

a good soul. God’s got

you in bright lens. You’re

shining.”

“Thanks,” I said

and we parted ways

I keep candy

wrappers in

my pockets ever since

I just don’t wanna

meet him

again and not be

able to give him what he’s

looking for

I’d be sad if

that happened

But I’ve never met him again

since then

and whenever I ask

about him

people don’t know

what I’m talking about

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There he mostly daydreams and writes poems and stories. He also manages a poetry blog Daydreaming as a profession.

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