anybody who has ever sat under a white tent ducking the sun
knows how little the people who attend arts festivals are willing to spend
and how much easier it might be to sell loaded nachos for a five
and to what extent art is useful to a group of people showing off
their bike gear and boyfriends.
only visit peddlers who pull the curtains down all the way round
who sit out front with a sign “CLOSED TODAY. THE END.”
(it’s not really the end they just need love and attention)
like everybody else, they’re just weird about it.
your pit bull rescue makes them very nervous
one time they got their leg thoroughly licked
for coming out from behind the counter and smiling at you
because you noticed a tiny speck of Tyrian Plum on a postage stamp
and then stepped next door to grab a beer