Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Moved to Poetry by Poetry Because of Poetry

An Ode to the corner store

Oh Corner Store...how I heart thee
With your 24-hourness and
chicken and jojo-scented
singing to me like a non-drowny siren

With the promise of neon, ranch dip and

A refrigerated top row of 22 ouncers

You always have what I need

Whether it's duct tape or $1 meat

And for that, I metaphorically embrace you and
rowdy, fun-lovin' gangster wannabes
Hanging out by the bus stop like Tupac's
Not dead.
Calling everyone a bitch.

The pasty skinny-jeaned buying Pabst (case-style)
Making small talk with other races

Trying to pretend they're not uncomfortable.

You have the specialty chips I need

To make the tuna casserole

'Cause it's comfort food night
As it is when I work late.

Though no sleep occurs

You know you're my Comfort Inn.

The sketch is my crutch

And yes, that last part was a haiku.
For you, Corner Store

Bless you, google earth. And thank you as well.

11 keep(s) me blogging:

Gorilla Bananas said...

$1 meat? Is that roadkill possum or raccoon?

Charlie said...

Beautiful, just absolutely beautiful. I cried all the way through it, and then I remembered that I'd just put eyedrops in my, uh, eyes.

Someday, you may be as famous as I am, Charles Wadsworth Skinnyfellow.

The Future said...

Your poetic style reminds of Lawrence Ferlinghetti, unfortunately that's probably not a compliment even if you are my daughter. Although I do think it is more than said corner store deserves.

theWaif said...

Not bad. But not as good as mine that got read ON-THE-AIR for Rick Steves' travel podcast!!! (Which can be found on their website, program #179 which aired the weekend of August 8, and otherwise is a show featuring travel writer Rolf Potts and a segment about "Budget Tricks.") Beat that! Oh, you can't because yours wasn't read aloud ON a podcast of any kind? HA! Sucker.

Really it was quite good though. Except I do have a serious craving for jojos now.

kara said...

goranas - $1 gets you 3 fried chicken wings! yes, suh!

charlie - i think you're filled with lies.

future - that sounds like a racecar

waif - you didn't TELL me!

Robert the Skeptic said...

Yup, that there poem brings back memories of hitchin' up the buckboard and driving the team into town to the local mercantile ta fetch some coffee and sorgum, and maybe a patch of gingham for Emmy Lou... Thems was the days of romantic commercial retail establishments.

Charlie said...

Thank you for not telling me I'm full of shit--lies I can handle.

And listen to your dad, Pop Ingalls.

Ms. Salti said...

Absolutely precious.

Anonymous said...

I am speechless, struck dumb by your raw talent.
why are you wasting your life in corporate america, why?!

Orhan Kahn said...

Wow, its quite literally at a corner.

davidprice said...

You took me back 35 years. I can still smell the excitement.
new hip steel and glass
franklin's ribs long forgotten
forty ouncers then