(Poem 138 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Is that a bullet hole there in
the drive thru menu board
at the McDonald’s off Mopac?
Maybe, maybe not, but what
does it say that my first thought
leans toward that being the case?
What is this world coming to?
is the thing older people say to
one another in these moments.
They shake their heads and
look at the ground, implying
life used to be less complicated.
When did I become them,
sucking my teeth in disbelief,
saying, As I live and breathe?

@Home Studio – 138^th poem of the year