original

he knows
where the baked beans are,
original he says.
everything has
to be original.
the bread, whole wheat,
original.
the mustard,
the fish sticks, eight
to a box.
crispy,
battered. original
recipe.
one by one, we go down
the long wide
isles of the commissary
until the basket is full.
he takes
out his coupons
and asks me if I see Leon,
his favorite
cashier
who takes all of his coupons
no mater what's
in the basket.
I don't want an Asian woman,
he says.
I laugh, not going there.
what's the point.
I set the pringles
on the belt,
original.