Who Knew?

Meat counter in grocery store which is company...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

{Part of the New Poetry Series 2013, more here}

The butcher, freezing

Smelled of sawdust and bone-saw dust

“Don’t make me go –it smells in there!”

“Well you can’t wait outdoors alone!”

The butcher turned into a small grocery store

Maxi pads wrapped in brown paper packages with no label

Mom:  “Need to know basis, young lady.”

John would deliver mom’s phoned-in order

I can see the list in her stick-straight left-handed letters

On paper she would fold in thirds

I save her address book, to visit her penmanship when necessary

The liquor store, the dry cleaners and the Charles Chips man

All delivered

It didn’t seem odd, how seldom she left the house

Who knew what other mothers did?

Now a meeting place for crack addicts

Their vials in the gutter

Tampons sold right out in the open!

Graffiti-like tattoo art (or is it the other way around?)

Brushes the scene where the butcher and the grocery man once stood

And for a dollar,  a hope and a dream

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