“I mean, I know her from the neighborhood,”
the woman in the manager’s kiosk at the supermarket
said to the lady on the other side of the counter.
“But I don’t know know her.”
I was loitering by the freezer
with the weekly frozen food deals.
Stouffer’s Frozen French Bread Pizza,
Healthy Choice Grilled Chicken Marsala,
a variety of Hot Pockets.
“What else was she gonna do, though?
Wait tables at Golden West Café?
Her mother says she’s making good money.”
“Dora? I don’t think I’d take guidance
from someone like Dora.
What’s she on? Her fourth husband?”
“The second one died,”
the customer’s mild defense
while conceding the point.
“Still, she’s making a lot of money.”
“Well, she has the equipment for it.
What’s her bra size? Double G?
I guess it beats having the old guys
pawing her when they give her a tip.”
The customer paid for her stamps,
rolled her cart down the aisle
with the bandaids, aspirin and vitamins,
and I was left with fantasies
what Dora’s daughter did
Charles Rammelkamp is Prose Editor for BrickHouse Books in Baltimore, where he lives and Reviews Editor for Adirondack Review. His most recent books include American Zeitgeist (Apprentice House) and a chapbook, Jack Tar’s Lady Parts (Main Street Rag Press). Another poetry chapbook, Me and Sal Paradise, is forthcoming from FutureCycle Press.