Convenience stores

Convenience stores must be easy, out there alone, late;

around here two or three get held up each week, as if

there were a quota on them. It’s easy to picture, the lone

clerk dozing a bit by the register when the guy comes in,

the only person in the store, brandishes a weapon, they

always say brandish for these guys, either a gun or knife

or what looks like a weapon, and the minimum wage night

clerk always turns over the cash, an undetermined amount

they always say, and then he’s gone back out into the night,

so often around here the bandit leaves the scene on foot, as

if familiar with his or her surroundings, some local talent

perhaps; then on the evening news they will show pictures of

the thief, caught on the convenience store’s security camera

and we are told to call the police if we recognize this person,

a person who someone will know, a person who, more often

than not is caught. It’s as if convenience stores have become

the stage, the backdrop for this predictable play, this tired story

about our world, a dark lonely place where it seems as if we

either tend the till or come in from the night brandishing or

pretending to brandish a weapon, then leave with a hard to

determine amount of money, leaving behind each time just

enough of ourselves that we get our picture on TV and finally

someone recognizes for what we are and calls it in.

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Alis Volat Propriis 

Wandering the desolate Oregon coast

Salt-swept rocks shrouded in ocean mist

Something flutters in the pines positioned on the cliff-face

And somewhere not too close

A dog barks, ceaseless and urgent

Joined by the cries of plaintive gulls

I always dreamt of shipwrecks

And lamp-lit smugglers’ coves

Of sun-bleached bone

And sand-worn bottles

Their messages long lost at sea

So it is here that I’ll sojourn

Lay down with someone else’s wife

This old body needs its rest

And it’s time we moved on from writing letters

At least for a little while

Sophie, for the sake of Conversation

Alone again in autumn

The leaves drift down from the trees

Dew drops accurately reflect isolation

Newly departed from a passing bus

She’s standing on the roadside

Clad in a plaid jacket and over-sized white headphones

And I could have been hit by it

By the way I’m feeling

If only I could

Catch more than inquisitive looks

From such a pretty face

I’m fumbling in the outfield

From the prettiest face

Tripped and fallen again

Why am I still writing these stupid songs?

A whimsical by-product of delusion

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marin says

marin says,

like what am i supposed to do?

like i’m just

supposed to take it

and they know that

i mean

i’m their waitress

marin says,

they knows this

but they still try to bait me

like they ask me

if i voted for trump

because i’m latina

one of them keeps asking me

what i think about his policies

what am i going to say?

like

i think trump is a sexist, racist ass

but i need your tip money

even though i know the whole group

gives rachel more money

when she waits on them

marin says,

the one in the make america great again hat

he’s always talking about

all the great things trump

has done already for america

like they say to me

even though i’m mexican

i was born here

so i should be cool with the government

kicking the illegals out

i’m not even mexican

i’ve never even been to mexico

marin says,

i want to like tell them all off

show them a map of south america or something

show them what chile looks like

but the little bit of money

that they do give me

i actually use

for like college

for like my rent

it’s just frustrating sometimes

marin says,

the job is all right otherwise

families with loud, messy kids tip well

you get college kids in

people my age

but they just sit around drinking coffee

and playing on their phones

sometimes they forget to leave anything

but i like them

better than the people who come in

on my morning shift

at least we don’t always have to talk politics

marin says

on the days those people don’t come in

it’s pretty okay working

at donnie’s

like i can almost forget that trump

is the president

or like my feet are sore

or that i’ll be smelling like bacon all afternoon

and how when the shift ends

i only have an hour to race over to manhattan

or i’ll be late

for my calculus class

or sometimes my biology 101

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