My legs are tired and my mind’s fatigued.
I need a psychic nap and muscle rest.
Commuting I have tried to be intrigued
with birds and blooms; instead I am impressed
by household offal piled at the street:
torn mattresses, sprung chairs, and broken stuff
of kitchen and garage. My plodding feet
are taking me by rusted people-duff.

I marvel how my neighbors throw away
appliances I’d never want to own.
My mother said I’d care to shop some day,
but she was wrong. I hold no telephone;
my household and my walk are gadget-less.
I cannot get a purchase on more stress.