Ode to DB [final draft]

to the guy too lazy to put his f*****g cart in the corral, You know who You are

Sloth is a deadly Christian sin, of Seven the one that plagues You so

Death, upon You I wish as your grey Cart sits amidst the fragile sea of Cars

my Heart fills to the brim with hatred as I watch you push your Chariot to the Curb and let it sit

just five feet further the other way and in my mind You would still live

You look to me and in your eyes I see a barren Field of Damn's, none You give, how selfish

as You turn to leave I sit and wish in secrecy for a gust of Wind to catch your Cart and bring it crashing into your front end

Karma is a B***h

but alas my Dream goes unfulfilled

days go by and I still remember your face, see it in those of everyone who lazily slips the front wheels over the Curb

why do You all torment me so?

your Carts sit in Mandala - Balanced Chaos so near to Cars so delicate yet care You don't

your one desire is to return to your Home one minute sooner, for what?

am I not a Person too? your Action so seemingly ineffectuous* causes me to return to mine an hour late, I have Things to do

your obnoxious, lazy Face haunts my hallucinations as I deprive myself of sleep to finish this damn Poem,

its Midnight and I am sixteen, I should be asleep but no, your Matters are less trivial

no. I implore You to know They are not, all it takes is thirty Seconds

push the damn Cart to the Corral. . .

I see You growing self-aware, You see me staring a chasm into your cold, dead Eyes

You turn and run to avoid conflict, if to do that, the Energy You have then why be You so lazed?

the cold metal of the Carriage’s handle stings as the spiteful Fire consumes me

starting at my Phalanx and ending in my Core

Those remaining in the Lot have learned from You, your example They follow

the Wheels spin eternally as they dangle above the grass, mocking me

You walk in the Store at five to close and dawdle in the Aisles with such disconcern, screw You DB

I’ve work to be done

I’ve been here since Four and your Shopping Spree had to begin at Close, why? You suck, I hate you so -

I’m sent to check your progress for seeming Eternity - once, twice, thrice, why, dear Jesus, won’t he leave?

after what feel like Millenia You finally make your way to the Front of the Store

You so slowly unload your Cart, it’s Contents spilling like Beer Froth to the Floor

You utter the words, “I have so much to get done so You’d better hurry Thomas.” -

what did You just say to Me?

in my Mind your smug Face caves in under my angry Fists, You’ve so much to get done? then why the hell are We here at 9:30?

again Time passes and the Memory of You does not fade

I see you walk in as I patrol the busy Parking Lot - don’t You dare, thinks I

but You do for twenty Minutes later You return and as You depart your Cart sits against the Curb

I despise You

I sit and spectate with such gratitude as the seventy-year old man who watched You spite me so delivers your Cart from its improper resting place

once I reach the door I thank him for his help and he jokes with me, "don't you hate people like that?"

We share a laugh and depart in our own ways, expecting ne'er to meet again

You remain a distinct memory in my spiteful, tired head

that is until just twenty minutes later when the Man returns

to his car He delivers your Cart, unloading its contents

upon completion He looks to me laughing hysterically as He sets his Cart against the Curb

He leaves in his Car, much nicer than my own

speeding away like a Teenager who just got their license and is about to lose it quickly

in my Mind’s eye I picture Him colliding with a Semi as justice is finally served and I cry out:

“who’s laughing now Old Man?”

Author's Note

Capitalization defines Characters and Allusions

The Mandala Principle is the idea that the individual is in a constant state of balanced chaos and that without proper care you will lose that balance

* I Shakespeared it - not having any effect

got bored as hell and felt like spiting a rude customer, ends the way I wish it had with a twist

He was people like that. . .