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grocery carts
would not make good longboats:
too many holes.
a disabled freezer chest
in aisle 5 provides
a cold sea to wade through,
and i do, with large, heavy steps.
tonight, i would be satisfied
with another man’s woman
thrown over my bulky shoulder.
her name would be helga
to my sven.
barring a lack of women to abduct,
even a large fish to char would be nice.
instead, i am left with a tin can
of tuna—dolphin-friendly at that.
i throw the can
into the cart with more muscle
than needed.
an elderly lady hovering
beside the green beans
clutches
her pink sequined purse
tight to her sagging chest.
overly-ripe tomatoes
fall from her gnarled-root hands,
explode, then bleed
onto the cool green linoleum.
i smell blood
and like it.
midnight
grocery shopping
after watching days and days of viking week
on the history channel
by dani couture
from: midnight
grocery,
©2004
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