At An Asian Supermearket

A throat tickling ambience 
of chili garlic sauce
settles over rows of Mung Bean paste
and bottles of oyster sauce.

Then clumsily 
I knock over and break a glass jar 
of hot curry powder.

The lady at the cash register
watches me jump backwards
flapping at the spicy miasma.

She is sixteen going on fifty.
Her disdainful frown speaks volumes.

I sneeze, and inwardly apologize
to a pantheon of Chinese Gods
for my sudden and wistful desire
for a White Castle slider.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020



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