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A Place to Put Stuff

Last night my recliner broke.
I used the lever to lean back
and I went way back, almost
heels over head. A shock.
 
I hate going to the recliner store
when the chair I bought there
five or six years ago breaks.
They always do, dramatically,
almost on schedule.
 
I hate going around the store,
sitting up and down until the
right throne fits my keister.
It’s not the money involved
although they aren’t cheap.
I just hate the process.
 
But the homeless man on the ramp
I gave two bucks to this morning
he doesn’t have a place to put
a recliner even if I bought him one.
It wouldn’t fit in his plastic bags
and would be too heavy to drag
to his overnight shelter.
 
In five or six years when my
new recliner breaks I’ll try to
remember him and realize
I have a place to put stuff
and he doesn’t and isn’t that
one of the differences between
the homeless man and me
and Hillary and The Donald.
 
 
Donal Mahoney

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