Between city rules
And my own disrupted life
I often find myself
Taking trash out to the curb
At five A.M.
With my jampacked bag
Of kitchen residue,
Squandered forest products
And soiled cat litter
I half walk, half stagger
Down the dark drive
Hoping I didn’t wake the neighbors
When I rolled up the garage door
Or a passing patrol
Doesn’t profile me as a burglar,
Burdened with swag.
Though my garb alone –
Boxer shorts and baggy T –
Should disabuse them.
Life ain’t always elegant.
©2011 John I. Blair
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