Notes About The Poem
My Grandmère
checkout
I'm in line at a store, and I'm bored,
Typing on my phone, restless and alone.
I’ve got light-blue nails, like the sky or your eyes.
I like them, it’s my favorite color - I don’t know why.
I’m buying flavors for my coffee, nutmeg and pumpkin spice.
I like having coffee in the morning, when it’s cold, they’ll taste nice.
There’s a really old lady at the check-out, she’s moving very slowly.
She’s paying with cash and coin, from a pouch, counting carefully, holey-moley.
She’s frail and reminds me of my Grandmère, with her white hair,
her sturdy shoes, I want to pick her up and hug her - but laissez-faire.
When my turn came, I waved my Apple watch over the pay terminal - it’s fast and contactless - like the whole world. Does anyone hug old ladies anymore?
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