Apples

I worked in retail at an Apple store for four years. Here’s a poem about retail from my new Fairwood Collection of poems, Obviously I love you but if I were a bird. books2read.com/u/bz9PQE

Apples

The customers who reek of pee & marijuana

The ones who lie to me

or flirt to try to get a better deal

then ask to see my manager when they don’t

The insecure who must be told

which is the most popular color: Black or White

The hurried who look only at my hands

The children who touch everything until it works

The people so needing to trust someone

they trust me

The priests who come out of uniform on Saturdays

flockless for a day thank god

The woman who continuously pokes me in the side

when she resents the attention I am sharing

They surround me all day with their urgencies & moods

their impatience & their gratitude

& they usually leave smiling

like the widow who wanted to return

three items that her husband had purchased

but never got a chance to use

I weigh each item in my hand

return husband widow

& after I check with my manager

& after I deliver the bad news that

unfortunately these items

are not in stock anymore

& thus cannot be returned

she accepts this with a shrug

It was more about making the effort

doing a task her husband would have handled

moving on more than anything

So after we’ve concluded that business

I ask how she is doing

& she tells me

then offers a hug

& we cry

(I’m sorry but there is no right way to put this in a poem)

See every day something like that happens

usually when I am not tired of standing

my feet don’t hurt

& I am not nagging a loose tooth in my soul

I feel as if I’ve come suddenly awake

in a field of black-eyed susans

blossoms hanging their heads in exhaustion

doing a fan dance with their petals

or craning their dark eyes above the crowd

desperately searching

the florescence for any sign of sun

& I have to tell you

there are few days

when I cannot help

falling in love