bargain shopper

days come on like daggers
and in the grocery store
it's an angry mob of people
molesting tomatoes and shaking fruit
only two lines
and they snake half way through the store
full of the overworked, the tired
the disgruntled, the obese, the sugar addicts
the guy sweating for one more sixer of beer
we piss on happiness by the pound in america
we'd kill each other over discounted steak
and lottery tickets
in the pasta aisle
i ballet dance over two old ladies arguing black beans
and hipster couples looking for
authentic, organic pasta
checking their phones to see if they got it right
and the same damned woman
whom i've encountered in every aisle
whom i waged world war one with in the coffee aisle
whom i fought with valiance at the deli
whom i almost slaughtered with revelry by the chicken cutlets
is standing in front of the toilet paper
and i actually contemplate wiping my ass tonight
with newspaper
to just not go to war again
and at the register
after the longest wait known to mankind
the cashier holds up my package of cheese
as if examining a corpse
she tells me the name generic kind is on sale this week
like it's a revelation
she says, do you want to go back?
but i know it's murder in the dairy aisle
a massacre at the bakery
i tell her not tonight, sweetheart
tonight we got money to burn
she rolls her eyes and rings up the expensive cheese
while the guy behind me coughs
into his basket full of off brand soda
and says to his wife
gee ... that guy must think he shits out gold.