exhaling

wrappers and cartons litter the grass
bastard raccoon with a bitch of a sweet tooth
time for plastic gloves, trash bag
picking up this vermin's rejects and feces
digging through my overgrown lawn
my life is this

mundane nothingness
days that blend in tones of gray
one to the next
this yawning, coffee filled existence
the air that I breathe
is a waste
and in this chest
is a waste of a human soul.