Ballad of the Convenience Store ClerkDean Gorman
plucking Kleenex from a handbag someone’s very pretty & stubborn strangers have it all right now the fluorescents can be romantic, the cooler filled with Heineken & Boones Farm the aisles fronted I see them but I don’t know where they go Thomas Cully Park some bridge embankment the junkies so motherless waiting for a pal off the 15 they buy the St. Ides, Drum, toilet paper, they either shout or mumble but nicely sugar give me a plan I almost say maybe I did some wrong things to end up at this Pantry like a museum not knowing if I’m out of breath hearing B3 out of the cripple’s radio at $8.50 an hour I smoke for free I don’t hide behind headphones the world gets dropped off in 3 foot stacks every morning near the end of my shift: Qatar, Gaza, Pakistan, the Caymans (my girlfriend says I read too much) marry me Diane & be soft smell like coffee sometimes just marry me you angel with the TV still on you know I drive home fast in our blaze Datsun no one’s on Glisan at 5 am
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