Air Vent Requiem

His muttered dialogue with Jesus
was apologetic and respectful,
politely drawing that Deity’s attention
to cosmic oversights.

The supermarket cart,
full of strange lumps and extrusions,
seemed a natural extension of self.
His eyes never viewed
a potential acquisition directly:
they fluttered, like children’s wishes,
skirting the object of desire,
until, overcome by belief,
he would pounce.

The temperature drop,
that negated the meagre warmth
of the hot air vent that was his home,
temporarily interrupted
his celestial conversation.

In the thin morning light,
the cart stands guard
over the still and huddled body,
like some alien monument
commemorating a battle
few have known.