Brice Maiurro
john exited the local
grocerystore
cart full of payday &
weekend → pushed it softly
to the far side of the
parkinglot
(he wondered where all
of his money had gone to next)
& it was late & darkdark & snow so much
& one minute until closing
the storeclerks slumped
like sunday shift
(the false god music of the ceiling
held no refuge in the molasses
of their twilight)
john loaded his canvas bags
into his car
his car
on the far side of the
parkinglot
& he pushed the cart (lonely sheep)
& another lonely sheep
& another all the way across
the parkinglot
through snow &
twilight & into the
refuge of the grocerystore
& gosh
did john see no smoke in the mirror
that gazes back at all
john drove home
& unloaded his heavy load
slept that night
like a small saint
