Away

Away

Throw it away,
we say, but where
does this directive
lead. Where is
away. We know it
suggests distance
and removal, that
the thrown thing
is no longer visible
or retrievable.
In theory, it is gone
for good, forever
or for a very long
time. We trust
it will biodegrade
into nothing, into
matter smashed up
microscopically
or reabsorbed into
the air or dirt.
We believe in
the dumpster.
We assume it takes
our trash from us
and does away
with it, undoes
what we don’t
have room for in
our homes, what
we refuse to
claim or tend.