At The Supermarket

For I have avoided energy for so long, taking the road of

apps, gigs and MSG. Xing, I'll be gone.

In the vegetable aisles I look for the “Odd Bunch”, because

I would want to be picked up, too. It’s cold, it's good.

But I move towards

pre-juiced up meats, and salami.

Reds, browns, and a small cue

waiting for fish at the counter of a desolated area 2o21 It’s been long already, nothing new.

I think of taking an avocado home,

where I’ll find her face turned down, and the sound of a washing machine perpetually at work like a gauged ox. When I was a child

I was convinced our washing machine was singing “Moogly vs Broly, Moogly vs Broly….Moogly vs Broly”. I had a crush on Broly…

pumped, juiced-up with cabbage hair and anger. Something androgynous, too.

Just my type.

Tomorrow, at the store, I’ll stop by the odd bunch a bit more.