Saturday, June 27, 2015. Tampa, FL

Saturday, June 27, 2015. Tampa, FL

Weekly, sometimes two times a week or more,

We make our way out, earnestly

In purpose, to our local grocery:

First world totem to our excess.

In our turbo coupe from our shoreside home.

We’d decided about four years ago,

We like Publix, a bit farther

Than we really need to go, nearer the 

Air Force base—Centcom—we travel. 

In our city, in our America. 

En route, we pass two other Publixes

And a Trader Joes, commenting

Along the way about cults and parking

And crowds and sales and new carts’ wheels.

Judge-cursing other distracted drivers.  

I poke him; I play with his ears and neck

‘Til he slaps my hand, then I hold

His until he crunch-squeezes my knuckles

So hard I squeal. We park badly. 

Us-absorbed, partners among long-strangers. 

In the bakery, we examine cakes,

Then produce—spinach and carrots—

Rotisserie chicken to share with cats,

Then onto beer and chips and milk.

Kale-stockers and can-stackers smile our way.

And we bicker about BOGOs, getting

Double those things not on the list.

Frozen pizza? Is Kim Crawford on sale?

Is that Fancy Feast two cents off?!

Sample ladies hand us cheese and crackers. 

He pretend-runs me over with the cart,

I feign pain and he fakes concern.

We play in the aisles, we help old ladies

Reach top shelves; we ponder toothpastes.

A child waves hello from his basket seat. 

He catches my purposeful eye scope him

And grins wryly. I beam with pride.

I whisper an off-color bagel joke.

I sneak a peck on his shoulder.

Another couple sees and copies us. 

I show him a Hallmark card with two he-

Felines paunched in front of a  heart. 

They love-stare at each other, captioned by, 

“We’re purr-fect together.” He growls.

Pig-Sonny and sheep-Cher: “I got ewe, babe.”

He sends me to surveil checkout lanes and

Darts over to grab some limes we’d 

Somehow forgotten, again as always. 

I examine Cosmo covers.

John Roberts approves from Tribune’s front page.

  

I choose sweet Faye, who always asks about 

Kitties and coupons. And Lucy,

The Down-syndromed girl who quite perfectly

Sets each item in its own bag.

Silent cheers of approval urge us on.

Cash back in pockets, we stop at the scale,

Re-balanced since the last visit

Knowing that the wait on justice has changed

And every ounce of us has changed.

We are weighed anew, now rights-heavier.

Our reception is regular again,

First time since we were regular.

Together we fill our trunk, sack by sack.

And make our way home: to our home.

Greeted by critters who know no difference.

Buoyed, we cross the same sweet threshold again.

The first time a different us. The

Same us, a little weightier:

Engaged, witnessed, re-stocked and blessed.

Pantries full, fridge packed: hearts overflowing.

Read more of my poetry, essays, and stories at Momentitiousness.com