To be six years old at the grocery store
You are leaving Wal-Mart with your family
Walking slow, all of you, so slow and yet not slow enough
I am fast but so slow that several of you cut me off
And two of you, your grandmother and your little brother
I assume –
How the hell would I know –
Are stuck behind me
If I were a lion and you were gazelles it would be over
I think to myself
I am
tired of handling other people’s problems
and ferocious
You look at me right in the eyes
You do not approve of me
Here in the midst of you
Never mind, child,
I tell you silently.
I am your family now.
You snarl.
I wonder who’s the gazelle after all.