John was hearing the voice of God.
He was hearing plastic bottles.
For him it was all the same.

He was walking to Key Food on Broadway.
Wind whipped his stained coat behind him.
His cart with the one bad wheel
          alerted the pigeons nearby.

Gray and white wings danced above
          as he navigated his vehicle
          through the grocery doors.

Then John saw a boy point,
          a mother admonish,
          a dog walk close,
          a girl yank it away.

John was returning the voice of God.
He was returning plastic bottles.
For him it was all the same.