thought I would walk to the grocery
the one down the road in the little white building
might or might not be owned by a cousin
he claimed to be and had the same name
doesn’t mean much when you’re in the Deep south
didn’t know I’d be walking forever
all older now and slowing down
oyster shell pavement still rough of an evening
but where else to buy butter in this small town
and a can of Rotel spicy of course
weekend’s coming so cheese grits
with hot hot tomato gravy
first you make the roux…
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