Caren Krutsinger Poet Narrative

Five Three Eight

Five Three Eight 
In that order
See it all the time
Reminding me of Stan, a really wonderful man
Who was not great at business

I worked for him as a cashier when I was sixteen
He always had a smile but was new in town
Almost no one shopped in our store 
Because he was new
He was so happy when 
anyone came in
I felt so sad for him

I babysat for him and his wife sometimes
Their children were darling cute and smart
Two, four and six, all knock-offs of him and his wife
A cute couple, sweet, but neither realizing
Small town USA is not open to newcomers
Five Three Eight

His store number
The thing that killed him
At a young age 
The night before his grandson was born
May third, two thousand and eight
The same as his store number

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Kurt Ravidas May 24, 2019 at 9:11 AM Stan is so lifelike. Strictly speaking, he is because you wrote him, Caren. I like him. Caren Krutsinger May 24, 2019 at 8:05 PM He was a real man, and the sweetest boss. I knew him as a teenager and I was assigned to do his bookkeeping from headquarters when I was about 27.