When I saw you in Whole Foods
I knew I had to have you.
I didn't shop there much, so I took it as a sign as you
dug out organic bok choy they keep on the low rack.
Your yoga pants rode low
and your flip flops flopped
and there wasn't a better match made for me.
I walked home with ham.
I got some juice. Some crackers.
And though my ego was bruised, I couldn't return it.
In the game of love, it's caveat emptor.
Between the carrots and mushrooms,
you caught me, and though they were only so I could find you
later
when we had cruelly parted,
I let you delete the photos
as you demanded
from my phone.
I've held bok choy since that day.
I've perused the produce
and produced not a single regret.
If you were to ask me why I fall so easily
so fastily
so completely
in love with the women I see,
I would ask you
if you really have looked at the women in Whole Foods
because oh my god the women in Whole Foods -
my god -
they should offer cold showers on the way out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem