she pokes my trash

Smothered in leftover sausage ham gravy A liver-spotted, sewer-swimming baby Auroleus

i don't like that old lady
who lives in the apartments on the other side
she carries a stick and wears a red sweater
and she's always poking her stick in the dumpster
she talks to me once in awhile but i ignore her
cause i know she's going to poke my trash
i don't like her poking my trash
cause my trash got a big mouth
it tells the world that i drink red wine and dark rum,
and eat microwave chicken dinners and too much bread,
and cook macroni cheese every other day,
and roll my own cigarettes ( i got a prescription),
and my ice-maker's on the fritz again
my trash, my life is none of her goddamn business
it's got to stop
or else
i'm putting on my red sweater and
i'm heading over to her side of the apartments
and jab her trash, snoop through her old lady life
and if it goes too far
me and her gonna have it out
stick to stick
sweater to sweater