clean-up on aisle 5

by Amanda Dawkins

sun-kissed juices explode
into a carroty fountain
of acid rain.

regular customers run through
the spray as if they were kids
dodging aunt flo’s sprinklers
in the summer time heat.

new customers stop
as if they were bystanders
in a new york parade
who watch a mob of men
tear a young girl’s shirt off her back
and do nothing.

this goes on for hours
until society is fed up,
grabs a mop and cleans up
the mess.




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