The Corner Market
Standing on the avenue under a light, all dressed
up with blood red lips like a piece of braciola
covered in attradtive colored wrappings.
Customers with bright new polished
shopping carts move slowly
looking, wondering
whether the price
is right.
How much will it take to buy that piece of tender
meat they wonder. The street lamp looks
down with the eye of an auctioneer
inspecting the merchandise.
Patrons stop their carts and
hearing the price, they
leave without
buying.
A client with a red shiny cart stops and buys a
young piece of flesh and quickly slides it
by his side. Police with their dull
carts, stroll by watching the line of
customers not wanting to bother
them, for they too have tasted
the fresh vittles from the
corner market.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
