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2011-01-22T19:37:55-08:00January 22nd, 2011|Musings on life|

Raspberries in March

There is a fancy supermarket
you know the one
where the produce is displayed
like an art installation.
Everything is expensive
even peanuts
in their shells.
But darnit
you work hard
and you are entitled to
organic raspberries
in March.
When you’re done shopping
a boy in skinny jeans packs the cloth bags you brought
and the cashier asks you if you want to donate
the money they saved on plastic bags.
You say yes
and choose bat conservation
over Pakistani flood victims
because you figure the bats are definitely
the underdog.
You feel
philanthropic.
You feel
rich.
Then just as you’re loading the last bag into your car
you realize you forgot
to get reimbursed for the dollar
for parking.
This makes you mad.
The kind of mad that is fun to draw
in cartoon people.
And suddenly you don’t feel
rich anymore.
Rich people
it occurs to you
don’t shop for their own
groceries.
This makes you smile.
The kind of smile that makes your belly
feel full of hot chocolate.
You pull over on the way home
and give the raspberries to Lawrence,
the old man who panhandles outside the pharmacy.
He winks and tells you you’re beautiful
and you tell him
so are you
but what you really meant was
I bow
at your grace.

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