Stopping by the Provo Smiths on a Snowy Evening

By Priscilla Hoarse d’Ivorce

Whose car that was I think I know

But he lives at the Village, though

He will not see me shopping here

Trying to find oregano

My high school friends all think it weird

The presence of alcohol-free beer

Between the grains aisle and stale cake

There’s no consistent layout here

My weary arms begin to shake

Case-lot beans were a mistake

The only other sound the cheep

Of shopping cart about to break

The walk back home is slick and steep

But I have deadlines I must keep

Too much homework for me to sleep