aerial application

Royal Cleanup in Aisle 12

My nose was in the butt end of a cantaloupe
when I saw the cardinal flash near the potatoes,
causing me to wonder if the local crop duster
had slipped some phencyclidine
into last week’s aerial application.

Melons forgotten, I slipped past
the grape clusters, trying to not sniff
as I rounded the onions to find her
inspecting the Granny Smiths for bruises.

Mimicking red-fire lettuce,
taffeta billowed around her legs
while sequins tried to cover
her overly ripe honeydews.

Fluorescents caught in her tiara
as she waved across the Valencias;
elbow-elbow-wrist-wrist.

By way of her carrot scepter
she bestowed upon me damehood,
so I curtsied into the kumquats.

It was then that I noticed
her scuffed Payless heels
and shredded lace on her hem.

She offered an aristocratic smile
as her prickly pineapple palms
pushed her empty cart towards
the revolving door.

LKT © 2015 (Originally published in RoguePoetry Review 2015)