Walmart Ladies

I’ve often wondered
Where the heavy set
Women at Walmart
Come from –
The ones that labor
Their slow
Slouched
Shuffled steps,
The ones that hunch
Over their carts
With their pastel
Elastic waistband
Pants
Drooping so
Indelicately.

I bet they come
Into the world with pinwheels
Anchored to balloon bouquets
Burdened by dumb
Headed ribbons and bows
Dragging with the levity
Of helium laughter,
Balloons that cannot
Surge
And bounce off of
Ceiling tops,
The ones that circle
In the idiot winds
With the listlessness
Of twisted strings.

I never understood the
Commonality of these women,
Their porcelain dog collections,
Their off color
Lipstick yawns,
Their floral
Patterned muu muus,
Their bad perms.

It seems to me
That the clocks in this store
Keep a synchronized count,
But forgive me,
Please beg my pardon,
But it’s just that
I’ve grown so intolerant
Of the way these women
Block every aisle,
As if they’re drunk
From the tonic
Of their own mutterings,
With their tempo as
Slow as
Slow fading rouge.

I’m scornfully judging
Every one that won’t budge,
And really,
I know that I shouldn’t,
But my courteous
Excuse me
Just went unlistened to
Yet again.

by Kurt K. Shinian