poem of the day 08.31.10

curb your criticism

this sunday morning
is too humid

and there are too many
american flags lining the street

i try to remember if
the union jack was everywhere in england
or if the french flag hung
from the porches of paris

my mind tells me that they didn’t

this is purely an american thing
hanging flags for no reason

exclusionary freedom for the chosen

this sunday morning
is too humid to be political

i watch an old woman instead

she has a metal cart
it is filled with grocery bags
full of material items

in her free hand she’s carrying
an ikea bag

i don’t think she’s homeless
she’s certainly not one
of the ancient chinese dragon ladies
stealing all of my wine and beer bottles

this woman is fit
an athletic grandmother

about a block behind her is her old man

he’s carrying a metal cart too
it is filled with more bags
full of more material items
and in his good hand
he is also carrying an ikea bag

hurry up, the old lady shouts

she looks back at him
then waves him away

you’re going too slow she says
watch the dog shit in the street
be careful with those bags

and watch how you navigate those curbs

this sunday morning
is too humid to watch an old couple fight

but i do it anyway
forget that i’m picking up the papers
and breakfast

the old man has given up too
he stops at the corner
watches his wife

probably taking account of
all the years wasted with this woman

you could curb your criticism, he shouts

then waits

it’s probably taken him hours
to muster up the courage to say that to her

but it’s too late
the old woman
the athletic grandmother
his wife

she’s already down the block
and around the corner

she calls back to him

make sure you watch
the goddamned potholes on this next block