TheBanyanTree: at the health food market

[Mike Pingleton]

the world careens
outside the windows
come inside, come 
inside, the smells
are free, the sourdough
is lovingly handmade
put together the way the
world was once stitched
(a slow, lazy knuckler,
irregular seams all over
the pale white wobbly
crossing the galactic plate)

I should
press palms together, bow,
bless bakery boys, bearded
and aproned, the women, 
kneading, lovely in their
floury nebulas.  namaste -
god is within each of you,
the world risen and baked
brown each day anew.

macrobiotic hot stove league,
league of organically grown 
lingerers.  come on in,
drop your cell phone,
drop your schedule,
drop your troubles,
drop your change and
drop your dead batteries
in the recycle bucket
by the door.

'Rich (NOT)' on his 
name tag, Green Wool
Cap with Goatee says
'dude, its pretty good
tofu' but no thanks,
I'll have the antipasto,
the line-caught
half tuna on whole wheat.
I shall live one day
short of forever.

We are all
relaxed.
We are all
treading lightly.
We are all 
listening.
We are all 
loving our time 
together
forever
and ever.

fair-share chocolate,
herbal tea, protracted
check-out chat with MC,
sweet, sexy elf (sixty; she's
not too old, I am too young)
and the bent woman behind me
in line has a husband
with a wallet
just like mine.

stepping out stepping back-
'yo, scooter-boy!' 
Marty on his blue-fendered
Metropolitan, Marty the
red-headed freckled
grinning immortal.
nice to see you, young
friend on this day of days,
in this place, 
at this moment,
my heart a warm loaf
of sourdough.