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December 6, 2020

Sunday Morning In Wisconsin

sunday morning and they’ve got their packers gear on
breakfast at the local coffee shop wisconsin

across from my temporary living quarters 

kickoff 1 pm vs the hated vikings 

nip in the air, chance of snow

2 eggs, bacon or sausage, toast with grape jelly

hot cup of coffee in a well-worn mug

who knows how many people have drank out of it

don’t wanna think about it 

gray overcast giving way to grayer overcast

church crowd coming in now

flurries begin to fly

all dressed up, how quaint how traditional

grandmas with their grandchildren 

looking uncomfortable in their sunday best

leaves on the ground once colorful

now brittle brown skeletons 

now just dead like those folks

in the graveyard up on the hill just outside of town

now go stand by that big blue dumpster for a picture

factories now vacant and quiet 

rusting relics of times long since passed

jobs drifted away like long lost clouds

hands in pockets hoodie up

walking on cracked broken sidewalks past lonesome storefronts 

with their arms extended looking for a handout