carts
with a woman that looks
like
marilyn monroe
come back to life.
ooops, i say.
sorry. my bad. i look
into the basket and
ask her about her
tomatoes.
the ones in the cart.
her strawberries
and melons.
whipped cream?
she looks at me and
smiles.
you're a playa
aren't you. which makes
me laugh. i haven't
heard that word since
the 1980's when i had
a billy idol hair
doo and a
yellow corvette.
so we shop
together,
for awhile until she
turns down
the diaper and infant
aisle, which makes
me wave
and say au revoir
my love, to that i
can't go back.
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