a bag of grapes

you buy a bag
of grapes. sweet purplish
grapes, seedless,
mind you. maybe globes?
a pound or two, who
knows, who weighs
their grapes?
but they sit chilled
in the ice box, on
the silver grate
that holds
cookies, and other
more tempting things.
you just can't find
it in you to take
the grapes out,
give them a rinse
of cold water,
pouring them into
a bowl and
start eating them.
they tasted so good
in the store, when
you were starving
and walking around
with the open bag,
tossing them into
your mouth like a
circus seal, but now,
the thrill is gone.
sigh.