more to the story

i see a man

in his bathrobe and slippers

chasing the trash truck

down the street

with a bag

of trash

in one hand,

the other hand waving,

as he yells,

wait for me.

on the porch is his wife,

hands on her hips,

curlers in her

hair, with a cup of coffee.

it's a story i'll never

get to the bottom of,

not that i want to.