A Supermarket In Seattle

A Supermarket In Seattle prose poem

Photo by Navicore

the crows stopped contending in the parking lot
there was a hint of salt and seaweed five miles inland
a shopping cart creaked over uneven asphalt
rolling unchaperoned until it sideswiped the curb,
tilted, slid into the gutter with a dollop of dull orange sparks.
we were there for hothouse cucumbers and to torment
the stacked tanks of Puget Sound crabs, angry at their
beady eye-stalks and rubber-banded claws, angry
yet relieved they couldn’t put up a fight, not like
the crows who had begun loitering in the lee
of the drunken cart, pecking at a blossom of greasy paper
caught in the bent wire frame. how could they
let themselves be caught so easily, my daughter
always asked when we were safely home, sketching
the crustaceans leviathan-sized, terrorizing cities daintily
with knife point legs scuttling trenches in highways, jagged
chelae snatching up human morsels and granting them
a scream apiece before grinding them in their hidden mouthparts.
before we could reach the entrance we were entranced
by an aged lady done up in peach gingham, her helmet hair
like a flapper crown with its spit curls askew. library quiet
she said, they attack your brain with melon ballers in there –
I can’t remember the word I was searching for
but like a faulty thesaurus, there’s every other word much like it
rattling around in my head. the lady forked a sign at the crows
who froze and fell to obsidian shards then walked into the rows
of parked cars without looking back. What word
could she needing, my daughter asked, what would she use it for?

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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November Third, Seattle

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The sun won’t appear today Rising elsewhere it kindles flowers In foreign fields; even inspires A crop of melanoma among The fieldhands. But not here. The grey view south is dotted With electric pinpoints and a single Tall cross dim