I see people scowling
Driving their carts
Through big tall walls of whatever.
A fat sweaty man in a tank top
Buys a lottery ticket at the booth
A humble look is on his mouth.
I’m drifting through the cookies
Take the left and I’m
Drinking through the sodas
I burst out and turn
Past meat
Past refrigerated dairy
Stopping to look at the gray plastic doors.
The man in the white coat behind them
He says he wants to go home.
I avoid the eyes and breasts of a black haired woman.
I wonder who here just got off work.
I didn’t
But I’m tired.
The young girl with the flyaway hair down the end of the aisle
Is just as lost as I am.
She stares at me, looks up at the sign, and moves on.
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