BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
That's the relentless sound belched out from a car driving past. You could still hear it as I rode down the streets of Avondale.
But there was something more noticeable than just the noise. Trash was all over the place. Ranging from potato chip bags to dirty diapers, from nappy weaves to used condoms.
People pack on top of every corner you see. They look like colored splotches. As you pass by the corner, every 50 Cent-wannabe turns and looks at you with a murderous grimace, making it appear as if they could pull a gun any minute.
Some of them try to cross the street safely without losing their pants.
A volcano of smoke arises out of each group and settles on everyone there. I really wonder about those people.
They all place their lives in the hands of trash. On the telephone pole a sign reads, "Don't trash the 'Nati."
Another time, as I rode down the trash parading streets of Avondale, I noticed a shopping cart hanging from a telephone pole. Now that's art. Not many artists can put silver metal with stapled wood and then keep it from clashing.
I could not talk down on this neighborhood when mine, Walnut Hills, was looking just as raggedy. Many people volunteer to clean my community, including me, but always some determined trash freak drops trash off every 10 feet.
This is what discourages people — trash bandits destroying areas that you have just cleaned. Pretty soon, you get tired of cleaning up after people.
But then I realize that most of the trash bandits are the ones sitting on top of trash can lids threatening anyone who comes within breathing distance. I don't understand it, but I still sing "America the Beautiful."
JOCELYN NICOLE TAYLOR, 14, is a student at Corryville Catholic School.