like they used to

they don't make licorice like
they used to, she says, gnawing off
a black twirl of plastic
looking candy. I can't even chew it,
she says, spitting some out
into the air. this is junk.
I want the licorice from my
childhood, not this stuff,
then she points at her shoes.
look at these shoes. how
worn they are after a week.
when I was a kid shoes lasted
months, maybe a year. but not
anymore. men, she then says.
don't get me started on men.