Tin Can Alley-world

a tin can rattled 'cross the street
then down the sidewalk in the wind
noisily like a drunken bum
or worn out hobo
who's lost his charm
having served its purpose
whatever that was
some while ago
and rattling loudly
endlessly now
to nowhere
no shelter no home
like all of us
no functionality
to spare
in the viral silence
of an age gone by