256/365: Humanity Octopus

Alone, I wandered the grocery store today,
trying on the feeling of widowhood,
because tragedy is a childhood game
for which I never lost the knack.
It surprised me, though, when I turned down an aisle
to find we had all become characters in tragedy costumes —
not just me but all of us in the store —
the elderly woman with the veiny legs,
the drugged boy with the greasy hair,
the sticky kid with his shoes on the wrong feet —
and it hit me who we all were
like a spark of knowledge flown into my head.
We were all of us an eight-legged, four-hearted lonely animal
working our way through,
spidering our way down the aisles,
parts of a whole we couldn't see
while we minded all of our separate stomachs and pairs of eyes.
We were a gorgeous, hobbling beast
picking out marmalade and testing avocados,
and I loved every one of us,
even our bits that picked out the wrong kind of yogurt.
We simply couldn't help ourselves,
and it made our perversity a rather lovely thing.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com

257/365: 17 Years

Onion, Revisited, For the Nth Time