Unintended Consequence



Online groceries curb side pickup

Remote from all potential harm

The exercise’s goal survival 

Intimacy a deadly gamble


Fresh perishables are the challenge 

Farmers market mask required

All went well as produce gathered

Stall to stall in distanced fashion


The butcher was a required stop

His stall with veal lamb beef and all

Beef short ribs a perfect rack

He stepped forward at my request


The ribs in hand proudly displayed

His mask worn beneath his nose 

My wife in hurried apprehension 

Pulled me back from his exhalation 


There was no sale of ribs today 

With  frustration I must truly say 

My wife with our health concerned

killed the deal the butcher scorned


Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 36 times
Written on 2021-01-16 at 01:08

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jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Sorry about the ribs, but I love the scene you conveyed, it touches all our dormant, deprived senses.