Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 400 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like. Thank you for my readers. Thank you for your comments.

Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Checker Bored

Checker Bored

Invisible chains hold the woman
behind the register
She is not the daughter
of the original owner
who owns a multi-million dollar yacht
who plans to add another to her fleet
This woman has children
maybe a husband
for whom she scans and bags
until her mind is numb
on the little money
this corporation pays
Each little thing she does for me
I thank her
I'll compliment the “corn rows”
or the hijab she wears
I'll smile as much as I can
knowing well few will thank her
for her aching feet
the simple paper cuts
the rough skin of her fingers
If she puts the bags I provide
full of the food and products
I will use every day
into the basket on the electric cart
I will thank her as many times
as I am able
smiling whether she see it
or not
If she lives with her family
are they also burdened
with people who care so little
with long hours of repetition
unfamiliar operations she learns
as she grows into this job
she might leave in days from now
because the boss is strange
because a customer complains
because someone showed no respect
because a man was condescending
because someone told her
to go back to the country
from where she came
escaping the guns bombs and murders
escaping the poverty of the neighborhood
in the state next door
A thousand reasons will cross her mind
until I don't see her again
until she finds a place in this world
where the owner
will take less and give a living
to her and those with whom she works
Thank you for your help today
Thank you for smiling just a little
Thank you for saying hello
to an old man
who will only talk to you today
returning alone to his quiet house

Barry G. Wick

Sunday, September 8, 2019



A Sunday at the typer

In a quick store

Watching shoppers come in

And go out

Thinking of where

I should go next

In a dream or with the wheels

This isn't the norm for me

Idle in public or indecisive

Even at home I'm active

Doing nothing

There is wind today

A chance of rain

I'll let the moving air

Direct me to a baptism

Sure of no belief at all

Aimless as this galaxy

Pointless as this universe

Controlled by god

With his explosive finger

Please don't pull it

It smells bad enough

As it is

Barry G. Wick