Wednesday Afternoon at Grand Mart, Before the Coronavirus School Closings

In the snack aisle at Grand
Mart, a grandmother in loose 
sweatpants is holding a Kleenex
over her mouth while looking through 
the foil packets of Boy Bawang 
and adobong mani. It is the afternoon
we hear about all the schools 
extending spring break by one
more week, then shifting to online
only teaching. My daughter's friends 
text to say they won't be going back 
to their dorms or colleges until maybe 
April; but who knows? No one here 
looks like they're panic buying—
just bunches of spring onions, carrots
the size of your forearm. Bok choy, 
mushrooms packed in styrofoam
trays. All of us have our favorite
spices, a penchant for some 
kind of food with such a delicious
stink: natto, kimchi, bagoong. 
We are trying to live life 
like it is normal as always. 
We are trying to feel brave,
to calm the alarms in our brains  
and under the skin. We admire 
how a store clerk in the corner 
is slowly and methodically stacking 
beautiful red bell peppers, one on top 
of the other, in a circle that rises
up and up and out of the bin.