Death Eaters

their eyes stare

fixed

on me as they drive by

worried that something

might have

changed

on their beaten

path from here to there

exhausted from nervousness that some

minuscule

thing might have

changed

in this soul-sucking town.

yet all they see is a lawn chair

a glass

of iced tea and a young

man

waiting

for a chance.

I stare back as if to

challenge

their life of

normalcy and stupidity.

I am not the only one

to see their kind

lurking around

waiting for their

next “wad of sweaty money.”

we wait

but we will listen and change.

I can’t spell.