Aisle 3
Her arm is long and kissing
and she’s gliding down Aisle 3
Eyes widening—as if she’s meeting
a new friend in every piece
OMG! Did I really just see
a sleeve reach out and halt her?
Seriously, something strange
just happened—before my own eyes
to our beloved shopper
I see blushing
I see satisfaction
I see spinning
I see blooming
Did a red jacket really choose a lady
in the shithole
where I work
on a Tuesday
on Isle 3?
Z
ZACDAQ 