Monday, July 20, 2020

Old Dog, New Tricks

A new world, truly.
Because I have fewer underlying conditions 
I volunteered to be  
head grocery shopper for our household. 
An honor though not without its own perils.  
I like to think of myself as a type of domestic first responder. 

This morning Katja gave me the weekly list
and I set out for Clifton Market.
Most items were a snap:
Peanut butter, black olives, greenish bananas, 
dog food, unsalted butter, Bounty paper towels. 
More challenging, the unsweetened cocoanut, 
but I enlisted a shelf-stocking lad 
who guided me straight to my item.  
I eventually found the vinegar department myself
but had to call home on to see 
if “apple cider vinegar”
were the same as the
“cider vinegar” on my list. 
(It was.) 

Two avocados made up the final items
on my scavenger hunt 
and I asked a masked pale-skinned clerk 
where the avocados were.
She pointed to the end of the produce aisle
where I found a variety of exotic fruits
organized symmetrically in cardboard boxes.
Unfortunately only the mangoes and the kiwis were labelled.  
Not entirely confident in my judgment
I picked out two dark green, lumpy, ovular fruits
and carried these back to the masked clerk.
“Would these be the avocados?” I asked hesitantly. 
She looked at me strangely
and nodded affirmatively.
“Would you like my help in choosing some?” she volunteered.
Though appreciative, I graciously declined.
Walking home I reflected
how much I’ve grown 
in my new responsibilities 
as head grocery shopper.  



Wednesday, July 8, 2020

My Pugilistic Career

All the Antioch freshmen had to take Phys Ed 
Maybe golf or horseshoes or squash  
I picked badminton,which sounded most gentle
But my roommate picked boxing, omigosh

Al was a chemist, a nerdy guy
Short, uncoordinated, even flabby
But each time he came back from his boxing class
He raved about his fights, oh so gabby 

Winter quarter arrived and I’d had enough
I was sure I was more manly than Al
I signed up for boxing, the first class I picked
I just knew it would boost my morale 

The first class meeting came as a shock
From the whole campus, all the biggest guys 
At least six foot two, two hundred pounds
I knew I’d never win a prize 

Class sessions were brutal sparring bouts
Monstrous brutes were on the attack 
A punch to the cheek, a blow to the gut
Thud, Crash, Whomp a Domp, Nasty Smash 

There was only one guy the same size as me 
When paired up we’d both go insane 
You’d never know we were mild-mannered 
We went all out, heck with the pain

I told Al my class was a nightmare 
The weekly pummeling left me sad 
Yes, Al said, it was the same for him 
“What?” I yelled, “that is so bad.”

Months later I got drunk at a party
I told Al, “Let’s go out and fight” 
He laughed and thought I was kidding
But I meant to show him my might 

Nowadays my gym has a punching bag
My left jab is still pretty quick 
But I’ve never once used my boxing skills 
Badminton, a more practical pick