A few steps back
from the stale Milwaukee stop—
the severe
-ly dressed old woman,
in subtle defiance of the
crook in her back,
fords that sheer
abyss that exists between
12:59 and 1 pm—gazing up at
those succoring pictures
in the huge bold posters
(which waggle a little
from the air conditioner)
hung high on the
inside of the
Burger King's windows.
