Chance Encounter



Today I met God in the supermarket
He was looking for a good tomato
and some greens for a sandwich.
I asked why there was so much misery in this world
and he said it was due, in part, to bad produce.
Not enough backyard gardens, no one taking the time
to grow their own solutions.

He spoke quietly, while misters spritzed the lettuce.
“Few tend their own plot anymore.
Someone else grows it for you, and you pay them
for mass produced answers to your hunger,
but nothing nourishes like homegrown.
The body needs food like the soul needs honesty,
and the best of either isn’t found on a shelf.”

Turns out, He’s not just being polite at the table
when he says, “Help yourself.”

He picked out a ripe one, and a bundle of chard
to go with the rye and baby swiss in his basket.
I tried to keep my cart full of cheetos and pop out of sight.

5 comments:

Mark Travis said...

I hope that this is read at the poetry slam... it is a good piece.

His Sinfulness said...

Thanks Mark - it depends on the crowd...

born again flocker said...

Homegrown answers for the soul? You mean I can't just get all of my answers from the flock's escapades anymore?

His Sinfulness said...

Nope. Everyone must hoe their own row.

(...there's a joke in there somewhere...)

Levi said...

I hoe my own row every morning. It's so lonely.

PS - Mogwai says "hi" and "fuck the queen" but in a much cuter scottish accent

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