all i wanted was a kiwi

last night i was reading Tom Wolfe and was struck by a powerful mean urge for kiwi. so i took a final sip of my electric kool-aid and headed to the store. i filled my basket with honeyed lemon yellow pineapple and fresh-picked cadmium strawberries and, of course, my precious DayGlo kiwi cloaked in its deceitful muted chestnut.

i made my way to the register and there was a madman in front of me buying brownies and a case of Bud Light. he was wild-eyed and manic, institution green scrub bottoms with the drawstring red, asking the tall Haitian (black as night bag boy) to help him load up his backpack, tipping in daps and snaps, "take the cans out man, take the cans out man..."

he must have heard me watching because he turned his head, looked down at my basket, and said "i used to eat like that and someday i will again." one more soul searching for satori in the faux-autumn Florida night.

i went home and ate my kiwi and finished devouring the book;
what a trip, man.