Ballad of the Convenience Store Clerk

plucking Kleenex from a handbag
someone’s very pretty
& stubborn       strangers have
it all       right now the fluorescents can be
romantic, the cooler filled
with Heineken & Boones Farm
the aisles fronted
I see them but I don’t know
where they go       Thomas Cully Park
some bridge embankment
the junkies so motherless        waiting
for a pal off the 15       they buy the St. Ides,
Drum, toilet paper, they either
shout or mumble but nicely
sugar give me a plan I almost say
maybe I did some wrong things
to end up at this Pantry
like a museum
not knowing if I’m out of breath
hearing B3 out of the cripple’s radio
at $8.50 an hour I smoke for free       I don’t
hide behind headphones
the world gets dropped off
in 3 foot stacks every morning near the end of
my shift: Qatar, Gaza, Pakistan, the Caymans
(my girlfriend says I read
too much)       marry me Diane & be soft
smell like coffee sometimes
just marry me
you angel with the TV still on       you know
I drive home fast
in our blaze Datsun       no one’s on
Glisan at 5 am