to tick off the list
mothers pushing their carts
pissing me off with the way they walked,
the Walmart geishas
deliberate in white tennies
the precise steps of the day's foray carefully choreographed
or else they have to call for help,
Say, young man! and then wondering aloud
(as if the paper towels give a damn)
why nothing's ever in the same place twice
And the children, crying,
crying, bleating for Blues Clues
candy, fish sticks shaped like Scooby snacks
a snarl one aisle over asking just what do you want
your highness
the tiny voice trilled more! more!
down past paper goods
finally to checkout where the kid in front of me
Budweiser, bullets, shotgun shells honey my husband would correct and
a supersize box of kotex
mouthed at the girl checking I want you bad
like it was a song on his lips or maybe playing on his ipod
and did not notice that she rang those kotex
double:
payback for a rollback? I amuse myself
but not with the Alien Invader Attacks Wall
Street! Branjolina announce quintuplets!
the guy with a thousand lightbulbs in his cart a patriot
in these hard economic times
sorry, I'm only here for shelf liner
from behind a finger weaving, slowly pointing
its destination starburst
a little child
with the sunset of a bruise seeping
from beneath his shirt sleeve and no front teeth
but then, that's what happens to kids
all at once they are gone, Alien Tooth Fairy
Extracts Children's Teeth While Sleeping!
he saw what I saw and to let him know
that I saw
I winked at him
but he did not smile, his young rabbit mind blinking
he froze
and then she gave him a shove
don't I wanted to say
don't cry
or add fuel to the fire (pronounced far
where I'm from)
the list: not eating your food. Two,
back-talk, watch what you say, mister!
in the dark prairie of your empty room
they will cut swaths
through the tender meadow of your soul
Alien Invaders
and there will be no way to hide.
Run rabbit, run!
just not in the parking lot
I whispered, the girl ringing me up say what, ma'am
Later, what was I charged?
he walked out with his mom
one little white hand reaching up
for hers
into the pinched air
cold, too cold for no coat
like a narcissus against red clay,
like something rare and odd that had bloomed
in the wrong season.
