Ramen
I want to buy all the ramen they have here.
In this little grocery store near the university,
There’s cases and cases of ramen.
Every flavor of ramen, stacked up in the aisle.
The kids do all of their food shopping here.
And Curtis, with lists from his neighbors.
(“I shop for my old people,” he says.)
Three boys in bright workout clothes, peering at spices.
Two plain awkward undergrads, looking at vegetables,
Making sure we all notice that they’re holding hands.
One tiny girl in an oversized hoodie,
Black hair in a bun, shining like rain,
Solemnly weighing each mango by hand.
Gentle Tim at the register, smiling at everyone.
(“You got a lot of good things today!”)
I want to buy all of the ramen they have here.
Nobody’s hungry, there’s dinner for everyone.
And maybe I’ll sleep, once the kids have all eaten.
Buy all the ramen, just hand it out to them.
.
Dan Berick is a poet and fiction writer based in Cleveland, Ohio, whose work explores love and loss and loneliness and the lives of the quiet people around us all. Dan is also a lawyer, a husband, a father, and a graduate of Columbia University and the University of Chicago. His work has recently appeared in The Storms, The Interpreter’s House, One Art: A Journal of Poetry, and Epistemic Literary. Instagram: danberick
.
Stone Poetry Quarterly 