The Asian Food Store
A throat tickling ambience
of chili garlic,
Mung Bean paste
and bottles of oyster sauce.
Clumsily, I knock over a glass jar
of curry powder.
A choking mushroom cloud
erupts.
The lady at the cash register
watches me jump backwards
flapping at the spicy miasma.
She is sixteen going on fifty.
Her disgusted frown speaks volumes.
I apologize, offer to pay -
eyes burning.
What I want now is a cheeseburger,
very mild cheddar,
definitely no mustard,
no sesame seeds, pickles
or onions.
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