that every guy in that supermarket
had one eye on you
at least. Not flattery--really
did see at least one behind you
take an unbecoming
gander.
A brown
jacket, matching
boots, and
patterned skirt.
You had on glasses.
I stood by you briefly, was thinking
of Allen Ginsberg:
"Who killed the
pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans
following you, and followed in my imagination by the store
detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our
solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen
delicacy, and never passing the cashier."
Got back in line
for a second cookie, gift
for a friend
who'd helped me out.
Put your bread in your backpack.
And then again, saw you
climbing on your bicycle. Thought:
this is love.
That's all I got. My ganders were very
becoming.
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