Shopping
The blonde female cashier looked at me suspiciously
and waited for me to pay my bill; how much
the priest charged you when you had your last
confession, I mentally questioned, while I placed
the two bags on the counter, nervously searching
my pockets while the old man behind me smiled,
the stench of his breath reminded me of wine mixed
with compassion and the blonde cashier had already
figured I was as poor as a doornail. While carrying on
with my search, I said to the old man, ‘It happens to me
every time,’ so simple, his smile, the alcohol stench,
the compassion I returned the smile, no idea the man
behind me was as deaf as my sombre day.
~ I like those who despise everything, for they, alone,
seek to pass over to the other shore.
Libros Libertad 