-Yearbook-

Let's travel to a little variety store tucked into

The street-side corner of the “Flatiron” building on Plymouth Avenue.

There’s plenty of parking on this side of the avenue in mid-afternoon

And peaceful grassy islands separate the westside from the east-side.

Let's say this adventure begins during a time in life when I appeared

To be somewhat younger than my years, as opposed to a few years later

When my age showed-up, inviting itself to the glassy medicine cabinet

With a cold slap to the face.

––Let’s say I wanted a pack of cigarettes.

Let’s say at the time my brand is the same brand

That seemed to take pleasure in killing my father.

––The small sign hanging over the entrance reads:

“Mackenzie's Variety,” but I don't make a connection.

It’s one of those hot summer months, early August and the door

Is screened, but there aren't any jingling, spring-loaded bells hanging

Above it, so when it's pushed open the silence takes me by surprise.

––It’s not a chain store. It’s not brightly lit.

It’s not manufactured for the hard sell.

Everything seems to be geared toward the purchase of afterthoughts;

The missed items of yesterday's list,––

The forgotten loaf of bread or the dozen eggs

Somebody always seems to need right away

And I'm guessing it's not usually busy with customers.

I wonder how the guy behind the counter pays his bills.

––I realize the moment I close-in on his face;— "Bill Mackenzie."

Interlude:

In the cluttered Office of the Vice Principal we stand;

Young cigarette smokers busted and facing adjudication.

Mackenzie and me.——

“Can I help you, pal?”—

“Umm...yeah. uhh..pack of Luckies.”—

––Mackenzie never did like eye-contact.
His vertical field of view stopped at the neck.
Back in time, nobody seemed to care enough to notice.

Well, except for me which might be the reason I'd come to write poems.

––I remember we shared a long Pall Mall,

Yanked by Mackenzie's fingertips from his oldman's pack
And standing behind a covering tree, passing it from hand to hand,
Let's say a couple of drags each before we were nabbed.
Now, fetching my Luckies, Mackenzie looks older than his years.

––I pay-up in cash money

Laid out on the counter as if I was placing a bet

And pulling the same eerily quiet screen door I pushed to get in,

Walked out to the avenue.