The housekeeper

The housekeeper 
I don’t know how old he is
But he should have
Retired
A long time back

He’s there in the mornings
Six days a week
Carrying the putrid remains 
Of other people’s feasting
There’s unwanted parts
Of Vegetable 
Fruit peels too
Discarded meals
And worse
Sanitary pads
Diapers
Of babies and adults
Loads of plastic
Packaging 

It’s all part of work
Recyclable things
To be separated
But if they don’t
He has to

The smelly stuff
In the green bins

There’s a lift
But he cannot
Share
With the others
More fortunate than him
Or they ma
Suffocate
In
The stink
Of their own garbage

The bins laid down
In neat rows
The organic composted
The recyclables loaded
On the municipal trucks

But still his work 
Is not done
The compound
Swept
The lobbies too
The lifts cleaned
With perfumed Spray

Now it’s time 
For rest
He now goers 
To kind people’s
Houses
To collect leftovers
Some fresh
Some stale
That might give him
A bad stomach
He takes it all
And shares it
As in of old
They break the bread

He’s finally gone
He’s retired
Comes once in a while
To visit my maid
Who gave him money
For the pao
When we had
Leftover
Chicken curry

I miss him so
But
Is that because
The new guy
Won’t take 
My leftover 
Chicken curry?

My conscious pricks
When the leftovers
Are eaten
By my dustbin

Oh how good and kind
I used to feel
When he would 
Take with grace
My stale leftover 
Chicken curry 

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