just because i cast my leavings-
stale cheerios, one-bite apples,
and even unidentifiables from the
tupperwares of odd fridge corners-
it doesn't mean i left them for you.
my concerns had a more general
and universal bent.
and- to be frank- had a certain
taint of laziness.
nothing- i repeat- nothing
to do with you.
your needs.
the needs of your tomorrows.
much as i'm bewildered
that you chose to invite yourself in,
snouting about and bringing
excitement to the stalemate
of nutgrass and seashore paspalumed lawn,
i'm afraid i've got to draw the line.
this is my space.
you belong somewhere out there
shuffling and rustling
subject to wind and rain
and the feast or famine of
borders and hearts,
the only places my kind
are little interested in.
and my garbage is for the earthworms and compost
and my aim is to recycle myself and my own.
you're on a different wheel.
so spin off, please.
and don't leave any "parting gifts"
on our way out,
neither...
