Page 31 - WTPO Vol. VII #5

rooJa MohaSSeSSy
Shopping
Each time I prepare a list,
I forget something ineffable: the white wound of the rubber
tree bleeding latex;
the vulnerability of roots in
a baby-six-pack of parsley plugs, also plastic,
black and thinly negligible; the cling to life after death-on-the-stand
of fresh gills and the thrashing.
Each time I venture out
to fulfill, I take thinner sips of air, weigh myself
against quality on your grand scale. I buy time in aisle after bleach-lit aisle, reading your labels
for the most cost-effective way to squander.
You swarm with possibilities
of beeswax and balsam.
Your different cultivars
and colognes each contain an entire
terrain from Provence or
a close semblance. I sift through my needs, sniff my wrists,
smile and mutter
an excuse to the salesperson why I cannot afford the air.
Even so, each time I leave, hugging
a package or two I feel refurbished, confident it will
smooth over like a coat of whitewash or at least identify what is missing.
Listen! Who is crying?
I can barely hear it anymore.
Mohassessy was born in Iran and has lived in Europe, Asia, and the United States. She is currently pursuing an MFA in Poetry at Pacific University. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in The Bare Life Review, Artemis Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, and Tuck Magazine.
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