wonder about the women at food bazaar, that vainest of grocery stores
wonder about the ones with kids, grandkids
the ones with spidery hair, the worst english, overweight
staring into outer space, bored
between the register and the plastic bag carousel

surely aware that their younger skinnier counterparts have longer lines

the price of admittance
to smile at her and watch her handle all your groceries, to check her out
is only time
there is some reciprocal relation between the time one waits to pay for groceries
and the time in which the check out girl has been alive

and the old women see you come and go
come and go
arms folded, gossiping, getting paid

headin' home