k.

 

 

 

Does shopping at Kroger qualifies our remorse; the hiding of colored coupons in envelops

already addressed to love-ones overseas? Such sorrow for the cold sign-language

 

chicken backs make, trapped in their sarchophagus of plastic. I cant help them now.

Not with the boneless meat, unguarded beast, with wiffletree removed along with

 

traces of the harness, bares pickeling.The skin, they say, is good for stock.

An old woman ran into my cart and didn't seem to notice. I took exception

 

from someone so close to heven and grabbed pastry after pastry, credenza for

my Tupelo beliefs. Markets make us so less friendly but the lobster, it's hands

 

tied down  to keep it from throwing left hooks, know the tension that drove him

restless. I hate to think what strange maleficence checkout is.What final act,

 

standing in single file as new recruits, compare, if you can, that scan to the thin

eclectic shave of ordinal; the sacred rights for our corrination.(huh)

 

There is no greater truth than money, no greener lie than plastic. I wish for food

as the cat does, to be turgescent as swollen mouse behinds. Shorthaired, slender

 

and domestic, grown from the sweet earth and not salty or sweet with the

suction of the early death;

 

avouch my sucrose coffee as the streetwalker,

to certain paradise.

Reviews

[Emily B]

i always dread the grocery shopping, trying to reconcile what i've got and what i've need with what i can afford, your words made me think maybe it is time to look at the adventure in a new way