Yesterday the driver in my neighborhood
(Rest his soul)
(I don’t think he’s dead but I do think he’s restless)
Picked up the cans with that hook arm
and threw them up to vomit their innards
then threw them down to think about what they’d done.
They lay there in a row of regret
while I looked on from the window, helpless and
feeling about the same – awakened at 2:30 
by restless children with sore throats and having my turn. 
Between the coughing and complaining
I spent the day flopping between distractions –
ordering food delivery, flipping incessant laundry,
inhaling videos of cake decorating,
rug cleaning and card readers who kept saying

someone is coming for you and My God, I thought, 
I hope it’s not the trash man; I’ve been through enough.