Not Alabama

Holding my hand
right out of Walgreens,
an attempt in keeping upright
because I can’t steady
with three cane points
of a quad
missing its fourth.

I barely inch
down the sidewalk,
agape in laughter
as she exclaims
the proximity of the car
in the accent of those raised
among Birmingham shires

gasping for air at thought
of each dumbfounded expression
after her honest apology for miscommunication
and I, having a stare down
with the tiled floor,
fighting to get ahold of myself.

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