Wallet

“Wallet”

Who am I? Where am I? Who am I?
Full of plastic and paper and arbitrarily assigned values
of spend, spend, pick up cat food, wanton wrappers
from the G-store—

a place full of meat, soda pop, and donuts
and I can’t buy any of it—

“I.D.” the officer asks.
I have to say, “sorry, left it at work,
I’m going there now, it is just around the corner.
Can you follow me?” Got it—

the G-store is cool and the isles are full of
temptations—

the vet is busy and there is a large purple
hound of some kind, stands as high as my waist
and wants to lick my face—

I’m home now. I have it all, except for that hour
lost on the second go around.