Try my luck No. Run. I could do just a little No. Run. Heart begs please Head screams leave How can a person possibly be one person— with the begging and the screaming? God, why?! Like a piece of paper torn in half, I am piecing the two together Now is the time for you to finally align
Glass shatters A child shouts, OOPS No-one else around to do it I must go assess the mess Inhale. Lucky me!
A boy and his mother and a jar of tomato sauce— splattered across Aisle 11
Exhale. How can I be mad at this adorable child? It was only an accident! You can tell by his face
In fact, I remember a time when I was a little boy and I broke a jar of sauce I thought I would never recover until I looked up at and saw my Grandmother— she and I were shopping together— Her eyes were wide open But she smiled
Alone in his mess. Alone in my mess. A mother smiles. A grandmother smiled.
Shaking my head— I smile— We both live on Isle 11 Not strangers. Repdigit.
Look—everything was perfectly fine until the frickin’ DJ of Aisle 8 decides the bottles of olive oil and vinegar, stacks of tuna fish and whatever weren’t put up exactly the way he does Do you know he calls us Whippersnappers?
He’s always sucking his teeth and complaining Not that song again! The store never plays one single song he isn’t dying to turn down That’s why I call him The DJ
You tell him I said “Thanks a lot” His DJ days are over! It’s about time he retires and buys a sweet place
on Isle 8