Good and Plenty
Clearly debriefed;
what if escalation.
Exhalation; don’t
relax. Remember
the facts. Living
dead flow on empty roads.
Remember the broad
streets of the mall,
where the dead lurk
and maul. Empty,
the shelves, two days
after malice of ice,
near and far. Skate
to the center, fall in;
what were you after?
Remember vegetables
don’t grow on shelves;
they arrive on big wheels.
One starts to question,
“where does good and plenty
come from?” A wholesale
disaster could be payday.
The living dead make their beds
under the fluorescent lights;
buzzing on open shelves.
There is plenty of room
for doom. I had to leave
the room. Breathing too loud.
Left with clothes on my back,
a card, a heart attack.
Grateful for provisions,
for meat in my freezer,
rice in my pantry,
cream of mushroom,
fried okra, lights,
water and electricity.
Electricity in Publix
unnecessary. Feet
moving, squeaky carts;
I’m darting out the doors.
Should I warn those
coming in. Should I
even look at them…
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