Walking To the Store.

I walked down the street to the deli store
on Fifth and Crayfish,
my stomach rumbling. I hadn’t
eaten
anything in
seven hours.

Cars drive by on the highway.
Lights are
reflected off the street lamps.
Mona waved to me as I walked past her.
She had been my friend for a little over
three months.

I walked into the store,
and ordered pimento loaf-
it was my favorite,
I slathered it in mayonnaise and
ham. The cook smiled at me,
offered me a free cookie-

I exclaimed "Thanks!" and drove home.
Tomorrow was another day.
It was not the same day as the one before.
Tomorrow I would have to eat something
else,
or else buy things from the grocery store.

Jessie said this was okay.
I said maybe I should write a grocery list.
And stick it on the refrigerator,
upside down.

I read once that William Carlos Williams
wrote a poem about a grocery list.
I wondered what happened to it.
Maybe it was in some museum in Rome.
Maybe a thief stole it in the night.

Sometimes we don’t know why things
are gone,
or if they ever come back.

People are like this.