The day I heard the bonus figures.

Monday, cold.
Dirty salt and beaten newsprint
pressed into slick ice,
an empty bottle of Budweiser
unbroken and clean on the sidewalk
lolling on its circumference in the wind.
I am truly here today, standing among
narrow rows of cast offs.
Walking with a long-sleeve t-shirt
wool sweater and house coat to the register
to over hear, “If i could just learn these numbers faster
I could get a job at Walgreens.
They pay ten dollars an hour at Walgreens.”



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