Man Without Doggy Bag

I caught the s.o.b. in the act.
His dog had just pooped on the neighbors lawn.
I was there, not merely to witness the man’s indifference
To the mess he was leaving,
But ready to take decisive action.

I should have reflected upon his uncertainty when I handed him a doggy-bag.
(Never mind what the hell I’m doing, sans dog, with a doggy-bag).
I should have noted his inability to position the bag.
What was I thinking when he walked across the street
Looking right and left, then re-crossed?
I was busy being righteous.

I slept well that night,
Satisfied that I had helped maintain the street,
And by extension the universe,
Only to awaken to a less righteous epiphany.