Photography © Glenn Bowie

 

In an Inconvenient Parking Lot

In this state I won’t name to protect some bodies,
the kids lurk around convenience store parking lots
for someone who looks like he (or she) will buy
some Strawberry Hill or Mickey’s Big Mouth malted
or Zoladex or Eligard or some generic
gonadotropin-releasing hormone analogue
for a kid, a waif, a Peter Pan or Tinkerbell
in need. Just this once, sir. Hair pulled back or close cropped.
In clothes that make some shake their heads and say these kids
today. Please, ma’am. Don’t be harsh. Don’t be unkind, please.
Just let a kid be who they want to be. They move
in and out of the light, a sort of desperate dance,
some thin as afterthoughts or falling hair, some as round
as butterballs or pandas, all their faces eager
as a cover charge, wary as a body guard
or bouncer. Me? I do what I can. If I know
an undercover is around, I’ll give a honk
or flash my lights to warn them off. And if it’s safe,
I will be the buyer that they need, be the kindness
we all wished we’d got when we were them.

 

Cecil Morris retired after 37 years of teaching high school English and now tries writing himself what he spent so many years teaching others to understand and (maybe) enjoy. He and his indulgent partner (the mother of their children) divide their year between California and Oregon. He likes ice cream too much and cruciferous vegetables too little for his own good.

Glenn Bowie is a published poet, lyricist, musician and photographer from the Boston area. He also owns and operates an elevator company that supplies custom-built elevators for clients from New England to Hollywood. Author of two poetry and photograph collections (Under the Weight of Whispers and Into the Thorns and Honey) on Big Table Publishing. He donates all profits from his books to various charities for the homeless and local animal shelters.