the cigarette butt (revisited)

i've been lying here for 
a couple of days now,
pissed on.  i catch snippets 
of conversation once
in a while, but mostly 
the usual grunts and 
groans of satisfaction
as i'm tossed about my 
disgusting grave. sometimes, 
while i'm lying here, i 
can hear cash registers 
when the door swings open
and closed again. "i'll just 
be a minute" after 
a knock on the door. but 
mostly i just get pissed 
on and pissed on. once, i 
was strong, large, and virile.
but now, i'm transparent 
and soggy, soaked in piss 
and water, wedged between 
the fins of a freshener 
whose freshness wore out a 
long while before my time.