Shopping at Goodwill

I peruse shelves of knick knacks
teddy bears ears worn ragged
chewed bitten
wet with saliva speaking
love

and lollipops sit at the register
you know they’re liked you
can see tears
running down sloping sides

and you know this is a place
of love

and you know this is a place
where amity never runs dry

but I seem not to care

with my tongue I lick dust
from upper shelves
and crack the glass and squelch
the flames
of candles lighting the way

the local school children folded
cranes to heal and
I take more than I fold

and slowly drain the bucket
which I hold

I cast a sharp word an icy glance
and bite the hand that feeds me

and yet I wonder
where has goodwill gone when
I sit in solitaire biting not
but air

and rusting into immovability
unable to reach to grasp
fingertips that once
stretched back.

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