Strafing the boulevard, the store lit signs obscenely shout their names
as if no one could hear them, remember their wares and goods, so well,
I can tell which aisle to find band aids for this wound that refuses to heal
scabbed and picked and bled and smoothed and scabbed over and over
or salve for the rims of my heels dried and cracked in winter’s brutal beat.
Restaurants, all sizes, shapes and price ranges scaling a rainbow’s fare
for appetites unending, cresting at habitual hunger hours’ gurgling songs.
How a child longs for happiness in a meal and a toy, romping a petri dish
soaked in saliva and snot and piss and crap laced red plastic pinged balls
or cushioned blows to bodies flung down chutes and ladders’ padded iron.
CVS Pharmacy and McDonalds and Chase bank and Pizza Hut/Taco Bell,
the art of commerce accompanies the blank of night the wreckage left me
twisted in elbowed chin to slump, knee over knee gaze reflected glass cut
through another plane of recognition, climate shift, and chance transformer
where a mind observes facts like neon signs wailing wisdom’s mist, capital.