canned vegetables

You say all we want
is the same.
We’re stuck in these
cauliflower walled apartments
listening to your gamble
for better cars and sleek
phones and kale kamut kombucha
don’t throw that out it’ll last
forever in the landfill
Listen, we couldn’t
throw it out if we wanted to.
The wrappers of three-hundred
days ago chokehold the threshold
of our businessman designer dreams.
I told you, all we
need is the same. Our
kids are sitting by
the bustop. They’re kind
I swear it, want
to see the world.
From Mr. Button’s windows
From Bess Eaton
From next order up
Sees the neighborhood
seize the corner store
and we can’t keep
the arms away from
our big brown eyes
for too long. Those
big brown eyes will
save our sorry
we tried souls
but had to find
a dollar from
something. Will
save a dollar and
head to the goodwill
for a broken
in pair of sneakers. Will
save a dollar but
teacher can’t share
what’s green in value either.
Listen. It’s not
money. I don’t care
my clothes smell like
old women mothballs. Maybe I’d
be less respectable
if I smelled Marc Jacobs
PINK Desperation. That’s
if we smell anything
besides our landfill
is almost full, you know
and that’s not a glass
filling up with wine
or filtered water I think
we’re figuring this
out before we all
forget these are walls
in St. Elizabeth’s memory
care unit.


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