Poem: Blessed Cotillion

illustration by Danny Zabbal

That grocery store he went to

for a can-a-corn and maybe bread

flashed right into a blessed cotillion

and mister m turned to a produce boy

just about fifteen years surprised

(talking like a distant cousin)

turned and said “excuse my frankness,

but I have been removed.”

Dropping that can from three of his weary fingers

the flat crack drop on the floor scared the boy

just for a moment mister saw what he heard

the pushed cantaloupe, the fixed coconut

aisles just stinging with tall puffed out shoulders

and mister looked lost to the boy

and that boy looked lost to mister

until he bent down on his knee respectfully

picked up his can, shook the boys unsound palm

mumbled in disgrace – something about how

the cashiers never bothered to say amen.