we are special and deserving

the parking lot intellectual sucks on his non-fat soy starbucks while reading the second part of a free publication spelled d-e-u-x as the exhaust from droves of dodge durangoes and ford escorts spews its filth on his tattered-on-purpose navy pants. there are fingerprints smudged all up and down their windows like bacteria cultures on expired bread. and on the back of one i see a penis etched in dust and a bumper sticker proclaiming in bold and ALL CAPS that MY CHILD IS AN HONOR STUDENT. i stand there, clutching a brownish liquid that may or may not give me cancer, soaking in the grease that comes with the genetically modified fried chicken that the fat vietnam vet purchased and is now carrying to his honda. i no longer need to condition my hair tonight. the same tattered buick goes round and round the lot, its broken muffler coughing and hacking like my grandfather with COPD. it finally exhales as it finds a parking spot right next to the good, handicapped ones. i wonder how often people consider bashing in their knees to get a good parking spot. meanwhile, a rip van winkle lookalike has made his way from the back of the lot to the automatic doors because opening one yourself is just too much to ask. it's sad, the way he clings to his walker he resembles a lovebug smeared, smacked, and sizzling on a windshield in summertime. as if entering the fluorescent funeral home to embalmed food in bright, cardboard caskets is the difference between life and death.
which is also upsetting because really it's just the bridge. a young man finally emerges from the diseased buick, licking his fingers as he tucks his shirt into his denim shorts, except it doesn't quite reach. i can see the outlining of his navel and am reminded of my favorite moon, io.i wonder if he smells as sulphuric. probably so. a young woman exits the store with grocery bags and three children on hot pink leashes that say "family" in bubble letters. and then as i chug on my cancer cola, i look into the security camera and see a sullen collegiate draped in black who obviously has it all figured out.
i guess that's me. well my car is parked here too, eating up at the atmosphere with each unnecessary mile i drive just because. and we all keep circling the parking lot, looking for the best spot because that's what we deserve, licking our fingers and sucking down our shit, waiting for doors to open for us because opening them ourselves is just too much to ask.