shopping (every day)

every day
he goes shopping
in the afternoon

he can’t go
in the morning
it takes a long time
to wake up
these days

the burden of a shower
is an exhaustion
that lasts
beyond the towel
beyond a shave
beyond the donning
of a singlet
and putting on
his outdoor shorts

he’ll lean awhile
on the kitchen bench
deep
audible gasps
of stale
emphysemic air

while he reads
the gospel
in his daily
tabloid

he navigates the cooking
to be ready
come lunchtime
twelve o’clock
then serve
is the tradition
that became a rule

a grandpa nap
and a quiet
lung settling
in the easy chair
is the closest point
to no-gasping

but every day
he will go shopping
in the afternoon
at the self-service grocery
off the main drag
where he can manage his laps
by resting on the arm of the trolley
when he needs
some air

at the lotto shop
he’ll look
for convenient parking

a quickpick ticket
eighteen lines
to a fortune
he doesn’t need
or want
except
it’s important
you have to know
that you’re still
in it

it’s something to speak
every evening
with a beer
at the local pub

but pharmacy
for steroid pills
and inhalers
is a little bit harder

there’s always
some prick there
in the disability
parking space

so he drives around the block
four turns
to every square
and to bring him
back again

no space?

what to do?

go around again
dear sir
go around again
or just go home

to try again

tomorrow

---

© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #33: sketch

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