A Warm Hug From God

She was
twenty-one,
a stripper
and a single mom.
She was pretty:
blonde hair
and
enormous
green eyes.
I watched her
shoot up
one day
on the floor.
She cooked up
a pill
in a dirty spoon,
and then
injected it
into her arm.
Her eyes
glazed over;
I asked her
what it felt like.
She told me
it was like getting
a warm hug
from God.
She mumbled
something else,
then
nodded out.
She passed out
softly,
slowly
against a dresser.
I walked outside
to smoke,
leaving her
with her
Higher Power.

Commerce

I watch
old women
push
shopping carts
in and out
of the Dollar General.
They buy
the most
mundane things:
shampoo,
pretzels,
paper towels.
They walk
their carts
to late model cars
in the
hot sun.
They put
their items away,
softly,
carefully
and then
drive off
to mid-size
suburban homes.
I sit
and watch them,
chain-smoking
my Pall Malls.
Their lives
are ticking by
and my life
is ticking by
in this
tiny parking lot
in the
middle of
nowhere.