recycling

On a block defined

by high concept design studios,

law firms and and art dealers.

on the fringe between

the Financial District

Chinatown and Broadway,

a familiar elderly

Chinese couple makes

their noontime rounds.

They wear non-matching

nylon windbreakers

and baseball caps.

She's got floral pattern capris

and he's got off brand khakis,

both of them in bargain shoes.

She fishes in the corner trash bin

with chrome salad tongs

retrieving aluminum cans,

hits a lode of half a case

of Diet Coke. unopened.

She passes the cans to him.

He pops the tabs and

pours the soda in the gutter,

scoots the empties back to her.

She smashes them under

her pink and white

generic trainers and

loads them into a recycled

Nordstroms shopping bag.

The gutter flows

with a sweet stream

of artificial flavor.

Ignored by a set

of young professionals

with their twelve o'clock

double shot espressos.

Five minutes, twelve cans,

sixty cents. Lugging bags

up past the sleek reflections

and chic receptions

across Columbus Avenue

to a hot plate walk-up room.