CAUTERIZE
I misled him by seeming to be interested.
From the doctor’s chair all the buildings that I once
saw are gone. Bulldozers are preparing the ground
for new growth.
He rubbed acid into my nose with a Q-tip complaining
about the construction noise. They’re redeveloping
the entire area. The old age home is also destined for demo.
The front of that building is plastered with signs offering
what’s left at tag-sale prices.
I now spend more time talking with supermarket baggers
and wondering why the mail-lady wears a light on her head.
Change frightens me; so I think backwards as I age.