Author Information
Supermarket
Down in the supermarket of memories
we push shopping carts of regrets.
making lists of all the things
we'll never have.
and grabbing
outdated products
for tomorrow's breakfast in bed.
We leave the fresh milk
for the one
with yesterday's expiration date.
As we stroll
and silk bell-bottoms
get caught under the roll
of the tiny wheels.
I feel it suck up the fabric
perpetually...
Checking out:
The conveyor belt
exemplifies me.
Pushing products up
and then watching them go.
Recycling itself
in circular fashion.
That is, until I finally get outside.
Unload the goods into my trunk.
Close it, and look up
only to find
the woman from aisle 9
standing
tall and fine
before me.
I says,
"You know,
I always see you by the Apple Jacks
and the bread.
I like those too."
She says,
"Well, it's too late for you.
You dropped the last
of each
and I grabbed them..."
...as she placed it all
in her back seat
and locked the doors
electronically:
A beep
I would never forget.
