The Nut Man

quinoa - almonds

 

The Nut Man has not come to the office.
The recessed-lit break room is empty.
Executives and assistants wander the halls, fingering useless bills.


He has not come and he will never come,
pushing his metal cart before him,
pushing his plastic drums of nuts,
his heat-sealed bags, creased and grease-smeared and reeking of smoke.


The Nut Man has not brought his candy, his brittle, his silted mix of seeds.
Today the Nut Man is in his garage, measuring out his goods,
Apportioning, closing off, smoothing labels down,
Saturating stink of ash and polyurethane creeping from every crease.
Nut Man, we miss you. You were some kind of solution.