That grocery store, that was something. You would be just tickled to go in there and pick out any candy you could want.

Our hunting areas are the grocery store.

I break out laughing. I frown.
I yell and scream. Sometimes,
if one jokes and giggles,
one causes war.

So I hide how tickled I am.
Tears well up in my eyes.

My body is a large city.
Much grieving in one sector.
I live in another part.

Lakewater.
Something on fire over here.

I am sour when you are sour,
sweet when you are sweet.

You are my face and my back.
Only through you can I know
this back-scratching pleasure.

Now people the likes of you and I
come clapping, inventing dances,
climbing into this high meadow.

I am a spoiled parrot who eats only candy.
I have no interest in bitter food.

Some have been given harsh knowledge. Not I.
Some are lame and jerking along.
I am smooth and glidingly quick.

Their road is full of washed-out places
and long inclines. Mine is
royally level, effortless.

The huge Jerusalem mosque stands inside me,
and women full of light.

Laughter leaps out.
It is the nature of the rose to laugh.
It cannot help but laugh.

A lot of people in line at the grocery store think that they know me, but they don't.

CASHIER: Are you a member of our club?
ME: Um, I'm just getting hot dogs.
CASHIER: That'll be four thousand dollars...or you can join our club.
ME: Um, I can't come to a lot of meetings, but I guess I'll join.
CASHIER: It's really convenient. Fill out this personal information for the next ten minutes.

He just can't wait. He's like a kid in a candy store.