Detest

I detest waste
I believe frugality,
It shows a profit or
It is shown the door.
I am 73 sitting in my car
Reading about Gettysburg
Close enough to the border
In San Diego to recognize the
Peculiar odor of poverty next
Door to the IKEA while she
Shops, which to me is like
Having sex with another
Whom you do not love,
Accruing stuff just to
Accrue stuff for no
Real purpose but
To experience
A lost sweet
Memory of
How
It felt to
Feel love.
And yet many
Leave loaded with
Junk they do not need
Often for folks who do not
Want more stuff when what
They really want is to feel loved
But apparently are too selfish to
Give and so are caught trying
To substitute junk for love to
No purpose other than to
Make piles and aisles of
Swedish useless stuff
Somehow desirable,
Like shopping at
Costco to save
A bit of cash
In exchange
For self
Defilement
Though I suppose
There is some symmetry
To the money-changers beating
The penitents from the temple.
Why do the heathen
Rage, because
They can’t
Buy more
Junk.
What a waste.
Let me add that if
It were a game store
I would be buying the
Junk while she shook
Her head in disbelief
That I still thought
Anyone played
Board-games.