Tuesday, August 17, 2010

parking lot poetry

because i'm cheap, i park my car at a hypermarket (an inflated version of the supermarket) across from work. it's called tesco lotus, which used to be 1/2 owned by the tesco chain from the UK and then the lotus is probably just to make it sound asian or something.

i get my coffee at a cafe called "au bon pain," which seems out of place among the other B/C offerings. it's weird to think about people and products in letters not so different from letter grades we used to get in school. everyone is an A, B, C, or D with a + or - in between. nobody is a failure if they've got the buying power.

every evening at the north (?) end of the parking lot a bunch of people gather for government-sponsored aerobics. there is a makeshift stage for the instructor and bumpy techno music. the receptionist at my office often joins them in the back row. late at night in the same spot the kids bring out their motorbikes and do tricks. then later they go racing in the streets. some probably die before the night is over.

once i saw high school or junior college kids practicing their act possibly for some school talent show or competition after the aerobic ladies had cleared out. they surrounded a piece of cloth, each holding a portion and waving it up and down against the wind as they moved in a circle--sort of like that parachute exercise from PE class when you're a kid--as some of their friends in all-white uniforms watched from the back of pick up trucks parked nearby.

once when i parked and got out of the car, an old man came up to me and asked if my car ran on a lot of gas. at this point, the paper towel around my coffee cup fell and i bent down to pick it up. when i stood back up, he had already scurried away.

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