Plastic Ocean

Plastic

Everywhere

Fort Greene Park

Farmers’ Market

On a rainy Saturday Morning

After Friday’s Noahic rains.

People shopping for the vegetables

Artesian breads and meats

Fruits.

At a stand

A middle-aged progressive

Blissfully packs

Apples into Plastic bags


“Do you where that goes?” I ask.

Stumped by the unexpected question, I answered for him,

“To the sea, but you know that.”

His eyes narrowed and brow goes eleven.

He hates me.

He hates my speaking to him.

I don’t blame him.

I am a hypocrite.

“I don’t want to get my bread wet.”

Artesian bread.

“Would you want to eat wet bread?”

“Sure, may I have a hunk?

I like artesian bread.

I walk away

Happy to have upset him

Happy to be a hypocrite.

My fish is in a plastic bag.

Deconsume

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