i'm standing right here

march

I was picking out tomatoes.

You started out weak, mumbling, self-effacing.
I got red leaf lettuce when I always get iceberg.

I passed on the avocados and wandered through the root
vegetables while you told me stories I didn’t want to hear.

One of them ended up being rotten (the tomatoes) the other mealy.
Within three minutes you had invaded my shopping cart and my city.

Enough is enough.

Wilting greens and shitty fruit are what I get when I
look for you among the parsnips and the penumbras.