Prose Words

The Siblings’ Favorite Stores: a poem

The Sib­lings’ Favorite Stores

shoprite is a place of dig­ni­fied shop­ping
it is for those who some­times don’t need to clip coupons
my moth­er does not need, she wants

goodwill’s floors are always slight­ly dirty
nev­er ful­ly clean, nev­er with­out a coat­ing of dust
my moth­er would not dare step inside
its grimy, on the inside, yet not nec­es­sar­i­ly
she is none the wis­er

shoprite’s floors, on the oth­er hand
those floors are fuck­ing spot­less
my moth­er loves to vom­it praise upon it
a small­er venue of con­sum­ing, yet if not more impor­tant
she goes to shoprite every­day

good­will does not exist for the ilk of my parent­age
it exists for those who need the most
my moth­er does not need, she wants