Confection Corner

Confection Corner

 

An Observation About the Relationship

 Between Hatred and Vanity

 

-P-

 

Now, with my back turned to Confection Corner

And waiting for the light to change on Church Street,

I could gather myself and figure out what just happened

I had felt the eyes of hatred and didn't know why exactly

But a clerk had been watching me as if I were a feral cat,

Looking for a place to dig among her darling flowers

So, I asked her how much for the marbled fudge �"

The one in the little box with the glittery ribbon

"Twelve dollars a half-pound," she hissed,

Eating me alive through the glare

Of her crummy red glasses -

And I muttered,

 

‘It must be very special fudge'

And smirked to think of how

She made it out of gold!

 

She hated me

The moment

 

That she saw me,

 

And I hated her

 

For hating me

 

That moment,

 

Finding my best outrage

And leaving without fudge.