Mystic McDonald's

   
   "Mystic McDonald's"
   
   Splintered by rapid disease encompassing around, I find no total solace, yet peculiar frequencies occasionally vibrate with sublime sound.  And at Mickey D's do I always find things that sincerely amaze me.  Yes, like a contestant on WHEEL OF FORTUNE--I am fascinated by simple, shiny things.  And we all have "Bankrupt" and "Lose a Turn" on our spinning wheels of perpetuity.  
   So alone, as always, or possibly not, because nobody can see my friends--I notice the old and withered; plus, the Mexican workers covered in green grass and labor-like dirt, but what caught my eye today, during my omnivorous involvement with a Big Mac, was:  an older, completely bald man, with wire-rimmed glasses, walking with an unstable gait, simply ordering a coffee; next, taking a seat in front of me, shaking as he drank his hot beverage; furthermore, hands clicking on the table; specifically, he was not neuro-typical.  Are you neuro-typical?  Just a go-getter with no demonic villains attempting to slay you since birth?  
   Regardless, I prayed for him.  To have the Energy of God, Multi-Hued, Surrounding--and that he may be reminded upon his next entrance of these magical marvels.  Maybe he too will not be alone, making friends with the Angels and Saints--them always pointing to the Trinity.  
   God Bless McDonald's.  Quiet, quick, and for some reason--easy on my bowels, what the hell--I like it.