Except

It drizzles all night
and all morning
and when I try to start the car
it will not

This happens often
and I do not have a hammer at hand
nor a stick of dynamite
so I walk in the drizzle to the deli
and buy a half kilo pastrami
and a hunk of Lappi
then to the fruit stand
for a zucchini and four oranges
and while paying for them
a beautiful woman
who moments earlier
stood framed for my eyes
between the berries and tomatoes
rolls over my foot
with her shopping cart

There is no
justification
for this poem
except after she says Sorry
she smiles
at me
and so do
I

 

 

 

About the Poet:
Andrew Vaisius has been published in literary journals across Canada, and reviews poetry on a freelance basis. His most recent chapbook, Domestic/Imported, is into its second printing. Andrew lives in Morden, Manitoba.

 

 

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