Poetry The man in the grocery

[Snafu in the Void]

The man in front of me was about 25 years my elder,
clutching two 24oz beers desperately,
as if carrying children on Christmas eve.
I wanted to say, "Hey man... I'm an alcoholic, too,
and we don't deserve to be alone on Christmas",
but there were people around me,
and I don't talk to strangers.

I take a few steps forward as the line shrinks,
he moves in unison with me,
The closer I get the more obvious he becomes
He had matted hair with various shades of brown for clothes
One faded attempt at a pony tail bleached many years ago
resting unironically on unintentionally dreaded hair

I wondered if it might be my dad,
in clever disguise
I wondered if it might be me,
in the future
I wondered how he got here
and where he is going
I took a few steps as the line moved forward

Maybe he is me from the future?
Maybe he has nobody to talk to?
Maybe I should tap him on the shoulder,
just to tell him what I would have done if I were him,
if I were him,
if I were him....
only younger.

I shuffled forward in the line, dreamlessly,
He paid for his two beers and hobbled out the door,
I may never see him again,
and I'm not sure if I want to,
but I never got to say 'hello'.



(just a flow of thought poem I started writing in my head... at the grocery store... behind that man... buying alcohol at 5pm on Christmas Eve)

 

[JoshLobbs]

Wow I love it.