black vagrant jesus forages for used pizza
at what point did it
present itself: the decision
to make the sav-a-lot cart
your mobil camper, your home
away from home.
did kroger baskets
have the more daunting
escape route?
was the target red
too much of a bullseye?
how deep into the fray,
the foraging, before
the cart plan was hatched
for a deeply un-premeditated
impoverishment? was it
a simple snatch and grab
or did you pull away smooth
having first stood in line,
a single roll of paper towels
in the entire cart in exchange
for a life savings boiled down
to .79 cents (plus tax)…
your remaining post-apocalyptical
commodities stashed safely
(you hope) past the corner,
out of sight.
was there a blood rush
when you first ran away,
the wheels wobbling / head
bobbling as you looked over
shoulder for security officers?
did you employ a steady gait?
a dead sprint? running into ruin…
do you ever stop
in contemplation, with hands
deep in the trash (the treasures
of this transient championship)
now claiming your time
to ask yourself how it all
came down to this?
did you not do everything
right / live all of life exactly
as required of you?
how infernal this fairness.
…
when all
of your contiguous
kaleidescopes are done
cascading, do the wheels
ever stop their wobble
carrying you to your next
avocational cataclysm?
5 thoughts on "black vagrant jesus forages for used pizza"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
I love this piece Sir Dirt.
Brilliant choice to use the interrogative throughout. Blake’s “The Tiger” is similarly composed entirely of questions.
I can’t pick one part of this as my favorite. Reading it was like riding a downhill racer…
avocational cataclysm?
do you find McDonald’s dumpster
well visited?
or likely not well visited enough…