poetry

grandmother in the wool coat using her credit card inside the gas station

for Unci Gloria…

Photo by Silverius Trandafir on Unsplash

all at once Unci Gloria
becomes all the mothers I've ever had,
the only person in Subway
who cares
that they don’t have
gluten free bread.

“you’re allergic. the salad’s just leaves
and they charge too much
for leaves.
what are you going to eat?… nothing?
then let’s go to BIG BATS,
you’ll get something there!”

she swims towards
the gas station
with emaciated limbs
as if possessed
by the spirit of God
the seedy gas station clientele
becomes sugar and spice
as I find a bag of pickle chips
and peanuts,
Unci adds a large soda
and a coconut
candy bar
that doesn't contain
coconut
and she points
to a lottery card,