"Groceries, Without Incident"

So theses are due tomorrow, and I definitely haven't worked hard enough. But I did read at the Boston College Intercollegiate Poetry Festival last night, which I've told myself counts as work.

After I performed, someone came up to me and told me I had a "silky" reading voice. I don't know why that comment made me feel so good, but it did. Naturally, I rehashed that remark with everyone I've seen today, and am doing so again on this here blog.

Anyhow, before I digress too far, this is one of the poems I read.

"Groceries, Without Incident"

Susanna lives somewhere along the Rock Island District— 

when I don’t see her waiting for the train 

she’s pricing soups at Food-4-Less

I still read her nametag each Tuesday afternoon 

but we have never said more than 

two words to each other 

Last time I went to the supermarket, 

I was shopping for taco ingredients 

too shy to see down past her plastic nametag. 

Susanna, shy too, wouldn’t look me in the eye 

until she handed me my receipt. 

I wondered if she had a someone 

if she too told him “not tonight, I'm tired” 

and what he’d known under her nametag 

I thought she would drink up my soul like Kool-Aid 

(on sale, 39¢/packet).