Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Supermarket Vocation

One and only poem I wrote for my poetry class last semester *sigh*

I find myself walking the streets of Portland,
hungry for inspiration, thinking to myself of your grandeur
with a somber heart of confusion that seeks consolation.
I need a Church in which to leave all my fears but
the supermarket is closer less intimidating than the haunting
pews of my past that loom within the stain glass sanctity.
Wondering the over lit, crowded, shining aisles
I might lose myself to the world of consumerism:
Spaghetti with sauce for dinner that will please the kids
Peanut butter, jelly, carrots, fruit snacks assembled
to make their lunches as I eat leftovers.
I pass the frozen pizzas, tubs of ice cream, TV dinners
Perhaps this is what I shall eat alone watching mindless
TV on lonely, blood red wine nights of mundane life.
But I see you standing in the liquor aisle (of all the places!)
Next to the Skyy and Burnetts, I follow through the produce aisle
You peruse tomatoes, cucumber, starfruit and pineapple
Looking at each item with affection and interest as if
You have never seen them before. I smile to myself
Seeing the wonder of the maker with that which he has made.
And it was all good. Through the aisles made by man filled
With things that we are suppose to enjoy, that we need
I see in the beauty of the forbidden fruit and all things
Good come not from men of a lost society, but from
You who stands among the garden fresh beauty
You wander through the soulless store searching for
The one who sees beyond the labels of pop tarts and Trix
Magazines line my frame of vision, showing me
How I should be happy with two kids, a fence, a man
I abandon the familiarity of a supermarket for a world
Only concerned with the consumerism of love.

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