you're not allowed to do that anymore

there is a dead bird on my sidewalk.
About 5 feet from the front door and it's all I can do to walk past it
let alone deem to pick it up deal with plastic and touching and soft
soft bones and dead flesh.
Someone else will pick it up, right? Someone else will knock out
the stuffed bird's nest that is in my attic air vent
I keep waiting for them to die
so I can clear it
guess this is a sign.

I get so mad like this.
Like there is someone keeping score
like god like someone I can say fuck off to I can say it's not
so funny anymore.
I know so many good people who love so many good people
and I've been paying my penance for damn near 15 years.
When do I get parole and a prison pen-mate who thinks
I am the bomb. Not fucking fair, mr. warden, this life is
not fucking fair. I have suffered. More than most. Pay up.