Here Everything’s Better

by Kate Kelly

–for Aaliyah, Brandon, Brian, Cavan, Chelsi, Ke’Xion + Micah

No one can imagine disaster

while looking at the bolillos,

but we can feel the weight 

of this world’s costs.

Bagger + Cartpusher promoted to Cashier

(but you still have to push carts).

Curbside, self-checkout, express-line–

you glide, you shine.

You rush over after school, 

Mom drops you off or you ride your bike

or you pull up in employee parking, 

adjust your red shirt, and there you are.

Hungry hands slap meat 

onto the conveyor belt.

It has been a week.

This job is not for the weak.

You have papers to write,

AP class reading.

Deadlines pushing, pushing.

You shove the produce and

punch all the codes: 4011 bananas.

I see you on your fifteen,

sitting earshot from the

grab n’ go soups + hard-boiled eggs

laughing so hard you might break a rib.

Your silver rings burst percussive,

slapping the table, because

there is no joy like the joy of a friend 

who also knows the jokes of customer service.

The fake smile and false “yes, ma’am”s or “yes, sir”s 

because the customer is often wrong.

But on days like this, you rule

register 13 and every customer is

your friend, your friend’s dad, your cousin’s

boyfriend, your coach, your aunt’s 

hairdresser, and even me, your teacher.

You know how to be kind,

how to be efficient and delightful.

You know we’ve both had long days at school, 

and here you are, still working and making it happen. 

Here no one can imagine disaster,

while carrying the weight of tonight’s

chicken soup. Here, everyone imagines

their fullness, their multitudes, 

rawness dressed and made clean.

You possess this power behind the register, 

pacing each interaction as if to say–

I control how long or short this lasts–

I know how long or short this must be. 

You can barely see the sky from inside

but as you scan my bolillos and chicken stock,

you read the weather as you wield it, 

beaming so bright, shifting my day.

Eyes recognize one another,

and I don’t need to look at your shirt

to know your name.