I sat unbuckled sipping my drink looking at him
Taking in his features as the street lights go dim
His floppy blonde hair and straight white teeth
I liked what I saw, but I want what's underneath
The thoughtful comment about having a good night
A random call because I'm crossing his mind
In reality it will be over soon because school will end
We will move away and on to a new more-than-friend
I'll get a job and he will chase a dream
The only time I'll see him is when I daydream
I'll call once in a while to hear his voice
Making time to hangout won't be my choice
He will be busy with new people and video games
I'll be distracted working learning my clients names
It hasn't yet ended, but I feel the shadow of fate above
I don't want to like him, let alone start to love
Yet, I know the latter will happen only from afar
When I'm old and famous I'll write of him in my memoir
Once my kids are asking me for stories about boys
I'll slip into memories and their voices will become white noise
Thinking back to the night I sat and stared at him
All while knowing I was drowning trying to swim
As I sat unbuckled sipping my drink
I wished I had sipped enough not to think
Wal-Mart at 12 a.m. is almost eerie.
Silent save the occasional shopper or manager,
Perhaps following you to ensure you don't do anything foolish.
Picking out the dumbest things just because you need to smile.
Playing with your friend in the toys, letting go for once,
Just to be chased away by management.
Losing one of the squad and looking for her.
Wandering over to the makeup, glancing at the camera,
Then picking out what you want and pocketing it an aisle over.
Going to the arcade and winning for once.
It's not a secret, you needed a win,
Plus your little sibling will love the new stuffed toy.
Seeing a random family member.
Rushing away as to remain unseen,
Knowing if your parents find out you will be dead.
The general feeling of disassociated contentedness when you finally leave.
You won't remember half of what happened anyway,
But who cares.
Shopping at night is the best.
Walmart on a Sunday evening
Feels like my brain
At 4 am
Every thought looks well made
Until I hold them
And feel the lack of substance
And then I realize
How many people I let in
That only came for something to do
i’ve been told
that my eyes
are the color
of the ocean.
just like my
the color of
the sky after
a rain storm,
a little lighter
than the blue
on a walmart bag,
a worn jean jacket.
i think i like
ocean the best-
i miss it the most.
and the truly talented ones
eclipsed his paltry
which engendered in him a
want to disappear their
the green eye of jealousy
was constantly gnawing at
why he asked unto himself
are they more superior of
people who knew a fine pick
would shun his dreadful
they sought out authors who
wore the praise worthy
he couldn't match the greater
pens that did show so
to whit he bought off the head bloke
with a sizeable money
to-day he's the so called
genius of expressionistic
whose popularity on culture plus
is like a sale at
We climb power lines and play Titanic.
We go to parties, but only for the free food.
We sneak out to people watch at Walmart.
We're the whirlwind couple everyone dreams about.
We're what they don't show in movies.
An international wire transfer was made last Monday.
2,000 dollars were sent to China from America.
I expected the money would arrive in China in 2 days.
Like, how it takes 2 days for my yearly 35,000-dollar tuition
To be sent from China to America.
I continued my week as usual.
I went to Aldi, a German company,
To get some groceries.
It was fast and cheap with good-quality products.
I went to Walmart, an American company,
To get more groceries.
I waited in line for 30 minuets.
It was slow and cheap with known-brand products.
That international wire transfer made last Monday,
Still wasn’t received on next Monday.
It went through an intermediate American bank,
Because my bank itself doesn’t do international transactions.
My money is still on its way to China from America.
if i make a poem out of iphones,
people will actually start taking
a liking to the forgotten form.
i can make every phone sing
with a new hit song
at the perfect time
as your eyes glance over them
while they offer you a new promotion
to go with your completed poem line.
and as you are thinking about the confusing
symbolism between a flea and blood,
you can also get 50% off
your next purchase at Target.
in the small town land marked by it's single gas station,
teens skateboard through
the Walmart 15 minutes away
in the baseball field of their high school rival
spend Friday nights at waffle house
after football games
the hospital near Walmart
is being closed down
history replaced by
churches and banks
patriotism and school pride
is sewn into the school
a memorial for the boys
who drove drunk and died
it's a community
built on family values,
everyone recounts their
blessings and after years
of collective prayer
bestowed upon that town
a Dollar General