Wandering Stop ‘n Shop In Search Of Slim Jims Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

nowhere to be found
finally dump a six pack of Diet Coke in the wagon
also four Red Bulls needing the safety of caffeine
because outside the 62 degrees
hurts my heart, only later to learn
the warmest January on record
winter now damaged beyond repair
so I begin my casual search
for gorgeous women to stare at
when I hear, “Bernstein” and turning
see Melisha Powell smiling
speaking in Jamaican, the rhythm
like Shakespearean speech dipped in honey
so happy to see me, her favorite teacher
now a model, her face pure beauty
mumbling I ask, “How much? ”
why I don’t know, nor what I meant.
“A hundred grand, ” she whispers
when an elderly woman appears
her granny, well, another beauty,
then Melisha leaning to kiss my forehead
and both drift off
like black rainbows in a perfect sky.
Slims Jims forgotten now,
at the register I hand over cash
getting pennies for change
and see two men packing my stuff
faces awkward, off center,
intelligence spoiled at birth
yet alive
and for years not knowing how to feel
but wanting to feel:
all being are perfect
yet pity.
“Good job, ” I say smiling
as I hoist the bags
waiting
no reaction from the brain broken man
his mouth frozen open
the tongue locked just past the lips.
“MELISHA, ” I call out
again: “MELISHA.”
The sound traveling far
a moment later she rushes to the register
“What is it, Bernstein? ”
her granny next to her
already knowing the answer
nevertheless I say,
“Another kiss, if possible.”