Saturday, March 14, 2020

day ONE THOUSAND ONE HUNDRED and FIFTY ONE


the homeless guy outside of my job
doesn’t care about our little pandemic

he
needs
to use the bathroom

and if we’re closed
he’ll scream and rant and rave

stick his hand down his pants
come up with an armful of shit
and smear it on our door

claim the dog did it
as he runs away from the cops

the homeless guy outside of my job
doesn’t care about our little pandemic

or washing his hands
for twenty seconds
while he hums the ABCs

or where he can get some hand sanitizer
and rubber gloves

how many people are infected
how many people have died

whether or not
the president is incompetent

he wants to use the shitter now
find a place to sleep now

and if he can’t get that?

then he’s content
to spread his feces
like a master baker

all over the glass and door handle

cackling
at our outrage
wide enough

so that we can see his one good tooth
in the thick, brown smear

as he stumbles away

a big, dirty infection
a capitalist plague

the original global virus.


--John Grochalski 

                       

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