Chance Encounter

David W. Pritchard

This morning walking the dog
on High St. I see a sign,
it made me think of Zach.

I thought nothing of it
after that until a little further on,
just before the guy
asked what kind of pit bull

Shelley is ("she's a mix"
I say, "pit bull with something
else"; "she's all terrier"
the reply) another sign:

VILLON'S. Suddenly I am on
some avenue of the poets in
some nightmare alternative
to the universe I am used to,

Andy and Zach have been scooped
by administered society itself!
Williams selling used cars,
Villon selling discount liquor

(it kind of fits…) close enough
now to see the sign says
DILLON'S, and the other signs
besides the one I mistook

where the D at the head
is more clearly a D.
My panic abates.
Culture may be total

but you don't like to be
reminded of it, not like that,
not as if it was some kind of
chance encounter.