Tuesday, December 4, 2012

poem of the day 12.04.12

her favorite song

i stopped at the grocery store
after working the ass-end of a long shift
answering more questions
than i’d ever asked in my life

my goals were clear
home and whisky

my needs were simple
bread and beer

but in the checkout line
she’s not even paying any attention

she’s not ringing up my shit
she’s standing their swaying
head bobbing, her eyes closed

the top lip biting the lower pierced one

grooving to some top-40 hybrid of rock-rap
that has to be at least a decade older than her

this is my favorite song, she tells me

i don’t know it, i say
and start pushing my groceries closer to her

you don’t?  it’s a classic

i miss a lot of things, i tell her
wondering what she’d do if i opened a beer right now
considering it’s like we’re in a club anyway

i think i’m going to cry, she says, still swaying

please don’t, i say
i hate it when women cry

but this song means so much to me

could you cry after you’ve rung up my beer?

she rolls her eyes and laughs
starts singing the terrible song to me
while ringing up my items

it’s not cute the way she breathlessly warbles the lyrics

it’s embarrassing and sad for the both of us
and i want to beg for an ending
or go and find that cashier who just tosses my stuff
in the plastic bag while talking on her cell phone

i find her inhumanity much warmer than
this little cashier serenading me

as close and intimate as i’ve been with someone
this whole miserable day

and that says more about me
and the state of humanity

than any song
in any grocery store
could ever hope to articulate.


No comments: