Observations.

On litter-picking

It comforts me to know I have been your discarded
as well as handled it. In this way, the relief

of the unchanging is inevitable. You are weather-
proof and predictable, you berate my parking

but pay for it. You have not seen me until now
when there is nothing but what is left

and who will rid you of it. Here I am, handling
your history, dazzling you out of sight, visible

to invisibility, touched by you and other strangers
through hypocrisy and uncrushed pizza boxes.