working again
trading your life
for money
delivery
driving and stopping
picking up and dropping
plotting your route
watching the clock
traffic lights
braking for the oblivious
idiot behind the wheel
on his cell and listening to
Dylan watching the river
flow, now, you sit eight deep
in the left turn lane
on Broadway waiting for
the green arrow
when you spy an older woman
shuffling along the sidewalk
in front of the aging brick
motel across the street, circa
1950, her right arm extended
to feel for wall, door, or
window air conditioner, whatever’s
solid, her makeshift handrail
every other slow-mo step
her fingers or palm touches then
pushes off, her left arm tightly
cradles something in a paper bag
to her breast, as she reaches
her room door cracked open
she disappears in the dark
when an ’86 Chevy Blazer
pulls into the lot
then backs into the first
diagonal parking spot
off the street, quick and slick
like he’s done it a time or two
a couple with handicapped plates
the driver gets out, shuts
his door less than six zippity-feet
from the motel room
he enters without much trouble
doesn’t look back
his biggest handicap
appears to be obesity
when the passenger
door opens and a woman
slowly slides out
he’s already inside
she closes the door to feel
her way along the Blazer
coming around the nose
you note the glazed belly
of her zip-up hoodie, lime-green
and her blue pajama bottoms
with white silhouettes of
bunnies and carrots
but her feet steal the style-show
those zebra-striped zipper-
slippers make you smile, say
oh, baby, you know what I like
when the light changes
you drive away
assume she followed him inside
to continue their day like you
just trying to get to some
kind of social security
as soon as you can
if you’re lucky enough
to make it that far, maybe
there’ll be a Sleepy Inn
with cable and a bottomless pot
of Boyd’s in the office
some retro accommodation
your age where the women
outnumber the men
two to one, and all the ice
you can scoop is free
where they’ll run you a tab
for liquor, put it on your weekly
bill, and deliver till midnight
any day of the year
