I sit alongside the road,
waiting for the men in those weird jumpsuits to come and pick me up and pick me out.
I sit patiently, with a slight slump.
My existence will suddenly become
the wonderful inside of a metal box.
A space where I can breathe,
maybe with other bags,
where I can know that I am not the only thing that contains scraps of metal,
bits of plastic,
lids that have come off of some weird chickpeas