A frail elder enlists A plastic chair,
Resting their eyes on boat traffic, nominates engine noise
To automobile parlance
And sitting hunchback scooches their bottom
Further back until the end is shared.
The elder retrieves breadcrumbs
From inside a plastic-bag,
Gifted to them
By the food pantry. They proceed
To toss the rations
To a paddling of ducks.
“Competing for scraps,”
The elder says
“Reminds me of Sunday school.”
Sand layers grass tips in khaki
Portions disappear to shade the inseam
Asphalt divides barn scraps
From graze fodder
Turns the dirt gray. Bright pink lumps
Flutter above windbreaker shadows.
(trees in the country)
(concrete slabs in the city)
Off the beaten path
Customer satisfaction finds solace
Customers as in:
Fanatics for satellite television.
Fanatics for water towers.
Fanatics for garages designed to praise gender norms.
Fanatics for conservative values.
Fanatics for “I’m just saying it didn’t used to be like this…”
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