Hurry Up, The Cars Are Waiting. By David Boski

I saw a woman yelling at her husband today

or maybe it was her boyfriend

either way, she was screaming at him

they were on the other side of the street

walking in the same direction I was

I was walking Melvin

this woman was big and fat 

and she had a bad dye job, red hair 

she was pushing a baby in a stroller

and the man looked like he was carrying 

foldable lawn chairs amongst other things

and as we reached the stop sign 

at Dunn and Springhurst  

he was lagging behind his giant lover

and she turned around and yelled: “hurry up, the cars are waiting!” 

so, he began jogging as he struggled to hold onto and not drop 

all the shit he was carrying

and I looked at her with a sense of disgust 

and at him with a sense of pity

poor bastard, I thought

as I kept on walking

my wine hangover still lingering

David Boski lives in Toronto. His poems have appeared in: The Rye Whiskey Review, The Dope Fiend Daily, Horror Sleaze Trash, Under The Bleachers, Down in the Dirt, Beatnik Cowboy, Winamop, Ramingo’s Porch, Cactifur, North Of Oxford and elsewhere. His chapbook “Fist Fighting and Fornication” is out now and available through Holy&intoxicated Publications.