But when I saw her

‘my first fuck’

in the supermarket both

of us doing our weekly chore

the place polished by fluoro-green

was not so much a

maze as a gallery

of itemized lust. Here’s

a black pen, draw barcodes on

my forehead, Quickly, She’s

passing … I’d had visions:

maternal heritage strobed

from her fleshy face that night

her loosened bra revealed indifferent

if glowing lunar skin. My heart

was singing like dawnbirds in

established suburbs.

She took my virginity into

her with a tough kitchenhand’s grip,

gnawed me with muscle.

I her one-nighter after a band and

too much beer. She my longing

randomized. The one guarantee

here in this supermarket

in this exchangeable city is

the face’s inevitable

sighting me then turning

the daze normal.