Sidewalk

i smell
the department store from the outside,
plastic and carpet
the smell of the dead, funeral homes
pushing past me like it’s got
somewhere else to be

the corpses flutter about inside
further down the street there’s another
more fragrant and floral, like
your friends and their cars

i’m afraid a second, that
this air is too much for us all,
and the next store’s door’s open
hot summer hot afternoon
i pause to close it, shut them all in

a man stands by the shoe store vlassic
jar at his feet,
you are not playing for me

on the bench it overcomes me, this
stink, this sound
to snap it the greatest pleasure
across the street a dog licks
from the sidewalk
the taste of the city, the scent of
this afternoon, the sounds of your tongue