The temptation row
of alcohol and ice-cream
are under lock and key
at the Salvation Supermarket.
A transvestite’s figure looks
better than all the women
in the produce aisle,
and spent lottery tickets
skid under my slippery soles.
By the frozen peas,
I thought I saw a woman smile at me,
but Botox had shaped her wrinkles
into a permanent grin,
the cold had made her proud,
and my hunger led me on.
Now, I wait at the checkout stand
of no regret,
fighting the urge to go back
and squeeze some fruit.
writer/poet
(not The Grateful Dead musician)
The Juice Bar 
This is a very cool poem Jerry, perfect for The Juice Bar…welcome! 🙂
This is a great poem, but I can’t picture Jerry Garcia writing it. Call me naive, but this wasn’t writen by “the” Jerry Garcia was it?
No, it’s a different Jerry Garcia, not the Grateful Dead musician…the poet Jerry Garcia. 🙂
sad and beautiful and true.
Wonderful images .
Thank you all for the kind words.
Jerry G
grateful, not dead!