Tuesday night is trash night. On Wednesday my morning walk is filled with these images- used tampons being circled by a swirling line of packaging peanuts, or banana peels smashed into the sidewalk surrounded by other sticky food packaging paper. Every week I find one bag that has been opened and picked through in the night. The contents of which are now spewed along the street, randomly lifted and transported by the wind to share the brotherly love with our neighboring streets. For a sensory lift, the walk is accompanied by the rank smells of human waste slowly heating up in the morning sun. I stop myself from looking down and instead I turn to my fellow humans. Most wear an emotionless blank face and quickly step around the piles in time to Uncle Sam’s ticking clock. Gotta get to work, gotta make that money. Finally, I turn my gaze to the heavens and ask “what type of species is man?” As to date, there has been no reply.