(written Spring 2009)
Supermarket Love Song
Potatoes, rice, cat food, toilet paper,
maybe some muffins if they're on sale,
tuna for the cat, it always makes her purr,
wait, that music, from above, a love song wail.
Why do people play sad love songs
over a supermarket sound system?
Don't they know broken hearted people have to shop also?
Maybe you think it amusing when I break into tears
at the sight of dark red kidney beans on sale,
or butter pecan ice cream and half-sour pickles.
Perhaps you ask, "what manner of man cannot peruse
the cheese assortment without a tear falling
at the sight of large curd cottage and holey swiss?"
I ask myself a question also, "will I ever eat them again?
Or must they always be exiled to memories of her back then?"
What about baby carrots and celery, peanut butter and marmalade?
Ruby red grapefruits and their juice, apples and lemons,
and pie, oh my, a la mode and steaming hot, may I not?
Oh, and so, I wipe my tears on my black leather sleeve,
shake out my beard, blow the snot around the nosering,
and damn, the sobs just keep coming out . . .
Why oh why did I turn down the canned veggie aisle?
Broken hearted people don't have to eat anyway.
So go ahead and laugh, world, laugh while I cry.