market

we enter separately

straight into the produce department

compete for the freshest Honeycrisps

thump the cantaloupes

listening for the right kind of echo

the right kind of response

“Yes, I think this one harmonizes.”

Squaring myself, I clench the cart

march through the baked goods

while sourdough and buttercream

bark and snap like chained dogs

I walk softly among the meat cases

silently pray and apologize

to all the dead salmon, cows, pigs and foul

before placing a package of turkey sausages

into a wispy plastic bag

dodging an errant toddler

an escaped gummy stuck to the wheel

makes the cart drift to the left

tink tink tink

bulbs flicker on lane eight

where I contemplate the rising cost of cat litter

aisle by aisle

hungry and daydreaming

finally re-communing  in lines

to pay the price

for feasting