No one seems to know what I am,
perhaps they just don't care.
But be aware of the fact that I'm alive.
I think, feel, hear and see.
I breathe.
I can hear your grandmothers arguing at Shop rite,
about whether or not I taste as fresh
as my folks in the old days.
They'd slowly shake me up and down.
a gesture to go along with an irritated:
"If my husband were alive he'd.."
or a disappointed:
"They don't grow 'em like they used to."
I always hated when they tossed me back
with a careless flick of a wrist.
They don't understand what it's like
landing on top of a complete stranger.
