I think you sleep under my stairs

I think you sleep under my stairs

i moved down the walk,
brown and slush,
the noise came far
and quietly a ratteling cart,
turns in my ears through city noise,
crowded vibrations fall dead,
but this sound is alive,
it palpitates,
a tiny cart,
a meager moblie home,
and again rusty wheel turns and sings,
your blanket,
cans,
bags,
dirty hair,
stories,
keep them hidden,
we hate them,
makes us ill,
wouldn't help you,
rather look at my barista,
rather push you,
out!
out!
out!
out where you should be,
your frozen body in a landfill,
we will never see,
the noise came far and quietly.