John Oliver Simon

WHOLE FOODS PARKING LOT

Neuronic where-I-parked-my-car locator

flips out of service like an app on the dash

I maintain air of resolute purpose

hoodwinking young folks loading carbohydrates

as I cruise by behind them with shopping cart

directed successively northsoutheastwest

not spotting the faded tennis pelota

I stuck on kayak rack (not used anymore)

to not gouge eyes of daughter riding shotgun,

nor does my keyfob kindle servile flashes

of AI still pretending subservience.

I’ll wander alone in this immensity

until I forget my own identity

should the young folks get concerned enough to ask.