November’s Bad Poems

It’s the ugly child of poem that only I can love.

Leaves Everywhere

I saw her at the Asian grocery store here several times. She must be living nearby. She walked so purposefully into the store as if she’s marching towards a battlefield. To battle what? I don’t know. A battle with veggies? When she’s at the checkout counter, you can see the pile of raw meats, vegetables, fruits, dry spices on her cart. She doesn’t even buy the ready made sauces. Obviously she’s doing everything from scratch. It would be a labor intensive dinner she’s going to make, I thought to myself, and no wonder she marched like a warrior. She has such beautiful hair, the kind that don’t need elaborate hairdo to look good. What a beautiful girl.

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