Ode to Seamus, the butcher

 tall, lean, ball-capped and white-coated

          his calm voice told me

‘we have the same things over there

                                        in the freezer’

     when I attempted to circum-navigate

                         his loaded cart

           in search of frozen hamburgers

‘thanks! there are so many choices today’

                                I blurted

surprised even to be noticed at eight

                                             in the morning

                in the supermarket

        ‘you almost need logistics….

                                     I studied along with politics

at university’

                             I heard him mutter

                ….  my head snapped around

                 like a shark’s spotting prey

‘did you say you graduated in politics?’

                                     ‘Uh huh!’

‘and what would you really like to be doing?’

                                  ‘keeping this butcher job…..

                   they are cutting and cutting…and

                                I’m scared of losing it!’

‘which aspect of politics grabbed you?’

                             ‘political theory’...

‘please don’t give up or in…

                     we need people like you more than ever’

             ‘I’ve been thinking podcast…. maybe there

                        is a way to make some money there’

            ‘please, please never give up on that!’

                                                his woolly fingerless glove

clasped mine, “I’m Seamus, glad to meet you!”

                                 emerged from his tongue

                                                                   and his friendly eyes…

                   pushing my cart past the eggs and butter,

I wondered, ‘was the next Aristotle or Burke or Hobbes

                                                           or Will or Reich or Fukuyama

                 stocking the

                                         frozen meat bin?’