an ode to the derby chicken salad from kroger
a hefty tub only lasts a weekend
in the middle of summer, scooping
savory loads of cold cut chicken
scouring for pecan and purple
grapes to complete the ritz
cracker creation. 10.99 a pound
seems ridiculous for a thing
made with such simple ingredients
though no one even orders from
the deli anymore, so i pretend
it’s the grown-up ice cream parlor
as i watch the hair-netted lady
scoop out the chunky fresh
afternoon delight out from
the plexiglass and onto the
scale, somehow a pound perfect.
i cradle my serving in the basket
nestled between cheap bread
and fancy crackers as i can never
decide which way i’d like to devour it.
3 thoughts on "an ode to the derby chicken salad from kroger"
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My neighbor, retired veteran, worked at a Kroger and gave me the low down on how he prepared this recipe. Definitely sharing this with him.
Idk why “so i pretend
it’s the grown-up ice cream parlor” made me feels some type of way ..
While I am not a native Kentuckian and have just now learned (thanks to you) about derby chicken, I absolutely love the idea of a grown up ice cream counter. Also the juxtapositions of high and low culture and economics throughout leave this poem feeling perfectly human. I also detect, though it is subtle, a loneliness to this that you might exploit should you choose to revise. It’s there in the solo person-at-the-grocery and the i as the only eater.