is trying to keep it together --- He walks up to the drugstore
window and pleads his case --- They will have none of it: “…not
without a prescription; it’s store policy” ---
By the time he plops back down on the park bench he is
going in and out of consciousness: first an aura, a foreboding,
a strange smell, a series of flashing lights, shifting
geometric patterns, then a jolt to the back of the head,
a lightning bolt ---
Soon the tingling will subside and all he’ll hear is
these piped-in E-Z listening drones: the cell phones generating
static? the sounds of turbines? cycles of birth and death?
seasons collapsing?… or just another mindless afternoon
in the industrial park?
The passersby [ try not to stare ] just grab their coiffured
dogs, pick [ at the ] falafel sandwiches, make sure their
designer watches are still there, [ wound ], and walk away