Bought a Baguette

Because it spoke to me in that low yeasty voice.

I bought 
a baguette
at The Good Life Grocery
on my way home today
from the library.

Not that I
needed it,
rather because
it was speaking
to me.

Its crusty
brown nose
sticking out of its
skinny sleeve
of crispy white paper,
coyly standing
in the bread rack
as if it didn’t know
exactly what 
it was doing.

It spoke to me,
nonchalantly,
in that low yeasty voice
only uttered by
fresh baked baguettes
in tiny neighborhood
grocers.

It knew
I didn’t need it
but could sense
my hunger and read
in my eyes
my plan to make
a ham and cheese 
sandwich as soon
as I got home.  

It knew
I was vulnerable!

It coaxed me through
its doughy distortion field
and next thing 
I’m walking 
down 20th Street
with a baguette
under my arm,
no thin-sliced
Good Seed 
organic bread
baked by Dave 
for this guy today! 

Alas, it paid
for its insistence
as I cut it into thirds
then sliced a piece,
horizontally,
toasted it
then slathered it 
with spicey mustard
and mayo, some creamy cheese
and added thinly sliced 
red onion and a couple leaves
of romaine.

I topped it off lightly
with an oily olive
tapenade, drizzling
the oil all over
the inside 
of the toasted bread.

The baguette
was right,
I needed it.

It knew 
exactly 
what 
it was doing.

Chances are good
it’ll do it again,
and again,
I’ll give in,
gladly!