tuesday mornings before daycare
i strap my
son
in a shopping
cart
we wander the
aisles
of wal-mart
i let him
touch the bristles
of a grill brush
call out
the different colors
of towels
name the different
power-tools
he'll never see me
use
and when a
milk-truck
with a winnebago
ass
cuts across our
path
we both swivel
on point
hot for the
chance
at a different
brand
Justin Hyde is a poet resides in Iowa, where he attempts to rehabilitate criminals for a living. Many more of his poems can be read on his blog, Partially Domesticated, at http://fdostoev.blogspot.com/