Truth And Frozen Foods Poem by Kurt Nimmo

in the grocery store
again. it seems I am here too often

cuing up
bartering paper
for slices of life.

it is not pretty this graceless dance.

there is a man and a woman
they argue over what brand of ice cream
to buy. the man has a woolen hat pulled down
low. his face seems to be made

of some kind of plastic
and the woman

her eyes gleam like knife blades
pupils the color of fly skin.

they are locked in a war never resolved
only terminated when one or the other

die.

I push a cart along. wheels wobble
against feeble perseverance.

this battle
man against woman
man against man
man against himself

no algebraic equations
exist to unriddle the war

it is eternal
and dull as a toothache.

at check out
I am asked if I found everything
I need today.

yes

I reply with
a rehearsed smile.

the
lie is now

instinctual.