PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The Hungry Secularist is a poem from my e-book of 79 pages, Don't Swallow The Toothpaste. You can purchase the book at whatever price you would like to pay by clicking the link provided at the bottom of the page!

I put on my boots
before realizing another holiday
snuck up on me.
Walked into the bedroom
and called two major grocery stores.
No answer.
I looked at what fruit was
on the shelf.
There were a couple apples,
an orange,
and one tomato.
Not enough to get me through this
Easter Sunday and work tomorrow.

I went online to a map search,
typed "grocery", and found a little market 3 blocks away.
As I approached
there was an old neon soda
sign broken in half,
but I was optimistic
and hungry.

I entered the market
and grabbed a basket
circling the store a couple of times
before asking the young man
if they had bananas and tangerines.
He asked what I was going to use
them for.
I said, "I'm sorry?"
"What are you going
to use them for?"
"The tangerines?"
Yes - he said
I replied, "To eat."
He led me over to the cooler,
"You know what's good? Take a lime and cut it into wedges
and roll it in sugar."
I didn't have sugar at home due to just moving in,
and if I did,
the thought of eating a lime in
any manner makes my asshole pucker.
It's probably something he saw
on an MTV Spring Break episode.
He told me when the bananas
ripened they were gone.

I usually reserve one day a week
to eat anything. I grabbed a can of
Vienna Sausages,
mustard sardines, clam chowder soup,
then a couple of things that weren't as fattening.
I forgot to look for canned fruit.

I'm on my 3rd cup of coffee and
making a lot of runs to the bathroom.
The wooden floor squeaks in the
hallway as I try to find the tight spots to step,
so I don't wake a roommate.

For whatever reason
my sinuses are flared
and my throat sore.
We've had 5" of snow the last
two days,
and the wind chill on this
23rd of March is 26*.

March Madness
is winding its way
to the Sweet 16.
I remember the fever
in Carolina this time of year.
Between and after games
we would sometimes meet up
to shoot hoops.
In Minnesota on days like this
when outside,
I just work to dodge the yellow
spots from where the neighbors
walked their dogs.

Jim Creston
March 23, 2008
All Rights Reserved

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