Sweep

you walk past me, everyday
littering, you give me something
to do, I sweep
I sweep, I sweep
even in my sleep
I sweep

the streets are clean due to me
not that you’d even thank me
for doing this, I weep
I weep, I weep
even in my sleep
I weep

I move quietly and without fuss
when I go home I catch a bus
my silent shuffle…I creep
I creep…I creep
even in my sleep
I creep

my brush caresses concrete
feeding my cart healthy detritus
catching that crushed by feet
earnestly producing tidiness

this face, these clothes, this job
I’ve had them all for years
can’t you tell?
My face is as lined as the path I sweep
flesh divided in rebellion from youth
I clothe myself in forgotten fashions,
wearing time upon my face

but mostly,
I sweep, I sweep
I sweep.