Corner Store

I went to the corner store
all wild:
My hair unwashed,
shoulders draped in a Cambodian shawl,
wearing a sarong over sheepskin boots.
I went to the corner store
all wild
to buy a Diet Coke.
The store was full of unexpected men.
The recycling team, in their yellow reflective jackets,
had stopped their truck for a break.
They took one look at me
and nodded me to the front of the line.
Perhaps they thought I was ill,
or mad,
or a genius distracted.
I came back from the corner store
all wild
and looked in the mirror,
and laughed.