I go to the store counter to pay
for my sandwich
and discover that
I do not have my wallet.
"That's alright," the counter-guy says, "pay
me the next time."
I thank him and leave, feeling
a little ashamed because
I have never liked the guy--
have disparaged him in my head
repeatedly--
it is the first time
anyone in this town
has extended credit to
me...
Not so bad a burgh, this town
afterall
I tell myself, tootling down the
sun-lit sidewalk. Not so ugly a dump
suddenly; not as hostile seeming...
"Do not go back there," a voice
in my head says.
"Fuck 'em."
for my sandwich
and discover that
I do not have my wallet.
"That's alright," the counter-guy says, "pay
me the next time."
I thank him and leave, feeling
a little ashamed because
I have never liked the guy--
have disparaged him in my head
repeatedly--
it is the first time
anyone in this town
has extended credit to
me...
Not so bad a burgh, this town
afterall
I tell myself, tootling down the
sun-lit sidewalk. Not so ugly a dump
suddenly; not as hostile seeming...
"Do not go back there," a voice
in my head says.
"Fuck 'em."
Wayne F. Burke's poetry has been widely published online and in print (including in the DOPE FIEND DAILY). He is the author of 8 published full-length poetry collections, most recently BLACK SUMMER, Spartan Press, 2021. He lives in Croutonville,Vermont.
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