At a Deli Counter in Vermont

Your ride home complains      the grocery store is freezing

they’d rather wait outside       the burly guy

with the walrus stache asks whether you want your Italian

with the works              You’re not sure what that means

So you ask and he tells you    laboriously surprised

and also do you want tomato              thanks

you lean on the counter and focus     on condensation

the chill on your palm and forearm    and under the glass

the meats in trays and butcher paper beds

some sausages            sad stacked-up tongue

a leathery souse or loaf            so out of it

that when he wants to know if that’s your order

and calls out loud         Is that your order ma’am

you startle and then apologize            for taking up his time

but he called you ma’am          so you don’t mind