He told me simply, “It’s not too terrible”

From the curb, next to the trash can 

The box he sat in was labeled in black letters PERISHABLE

He went on, “It’s what I am”

I was starving and the box had caught my eye 

“It may be hard to believe, but you are too”

He said, “We’re all going to die”

He extended a leaf 

I, my hand

And I had a seat there on the curb, next to the trash can 

I listened as he went on, “I hope my whole life wasn’t a waste”

“All that sun and water and packaging, now just to be sent away”

I was feeling faint 

The large garbage truck turned onto the street 

I reached for that apple as it glistened and I began to eat 

His tone softened and he said, “My name’s Adam”

I chomped away to the core of that apple 

And it happened – for a moment I felt alive 

I spat out the seed 

I stood, leapt off the curb just as the garbage truck turned 

And I was tackled, completely smashed

That big truck didn’t wince nor the driver notice 

As I was put away like the trash 

Was it my, or the apple’s, or the truck driver’s onus?