sometimes i pass the dumpster
and check inside for her
nothing there but a dirty cat
a toaster, sometimes not even that

what a stupid little thought
comes and goes, not to be caught
but leaves behind shadows of a dream
revolting voice in an unjust regime

some coffee, food, and work to boot
and just like that i'm a day older
except a squint, a smile, a turned shoulder
to stop a slow walk around the block
each day i grow a little older
but still it gives me quite a shock