Retail
There are too many ways to drive a car,
too many ways to look around,
too many grannies chugging shopping carts
behind my trunk,
beneath my tread,
doing the stutter waltz
next to my parking space;
to go or not to go,
I see you. No, I don't.
I'm too old to grab the seatbelt.
My shoulder pains arthriticly.
I used to have a Merc with
a Nissan Enjine
with an auto seatbelt that was a dream.
but they got rid of them
before they were made mandatory...
so we fight for the foolish fabric
and buckle in
to prevent
closed
head
injuries.
I need a Wal-Mart with a lot
with mirrors around the spaces
designed on several axes
to help me see my way.
A Wal-Mart build half-timbered style
and Tudor packing boxes look,
before a baptismal pond with trees!
enshrined in photos
glossy emblems of its virgin birth!
But when I'd finally got out
from my parking cell,
and tooled down by the pond,
the trees were dead,
the algae lived and bred...
and all the photos lied.
I have discovered
my Wal-greeters
are not happy
to see
me
at all.
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