Dirty Work

Once every morning and again after work I used to walk around the block and back to that big ugly reno up the street. There I’d take out a small jar of urine and carefully pour it onto their lawn, splash some into the bushes; then dump a single, solid turd from a sealed plastic bag and onto their grass, wait a moment and use the same bag to pick it back up. And, really, the only reason they’re not in this cell with me now is they got that damned dog of theirs to their dirty work for them.