While I was in the parking lot
of the drug testing center, an old man
carrying a basket asked if I wanted
some tomatoes from his wife's garden.
His ankle monitor seemed to be glistening
in the sun. Across the street from us
workers were patching up the basilica dome
and I thought to myself that one day goodness
will come back to confiscate our bankruptcies.
###
At the roadside thrift store, I'm leafing through
a stack of 9/11 commemorative magazines
when the man behind the register starts pleading
with a woman with a lazy eye. "I didn't think
I missed the car payment," he says. She angrily
walks to the back where twin boys are dissecting
a VCR. I wonder if they'll get to the bottom of anything.
Out in the backyard, there's this one tree
with hundreds of old dresses hanging from it.
###
Justin Karcher is a Best of the Net- and Pushcart-nominated poet and playwright from Buffalo. He is the author of several books, including Tailgating at the Gates of Hell (Ghost City Press, 2015). Recent playwriting credits include The Birth of Santa (American Repetory Theater of WNY) and "The Buffalo Bills Need Our Help" (Alleyway Theatre).