Mis-takes on the Cutting Room Floor

street art, Roanoke, VA

Round the aisle end cap at the pharmacy , a kid,
maybe ten, with one of those arm extending claws
grips then throws stuffed animals over the rows,
raining bits of fur on unsuspecting shoppers---

"This animal is worthless," he tells me, nonchalant,
"the only thing it does is shake if you pull its tail.
What use is that? The only enjoyment you get
is killing it." And another missile takes flight---

Midday, on main street, traffic back to back
bumper, exhaust through the window, on the heat's
breeze, bus bellowing behind, coat & capped driver
lays on his horn, a cop talking to two men
in the back seat and they point to a burger joint
where the car owner went to get lunch, leaving
the car idling in the middle of the asphalt---

At the library an elderly lady passes twelve of us
waiting in line for the doors to open, looks through
the window, starts talking to the lady up front,
then rushes in first---

South Florida, on an audit, years ago in my rising,
i found three grubby kids stuffed in a back room,
where the single mother manager kept them hidden,
human smells wafting out and the righteousness felt
as i led her & them to the door,

Her little girl looking back with bleary blue eyes,
across their held hands as they walked across
the parking lot, sometimes---
            sometimes she doesn't even need to cry
written for Imperfect Prose and Poetry Jam