A grocery store clerk asks if I’m ready to check out

No, I say. A song I think I know

twinkles overhead

& I ask the clerk if he knows it but he just shrugs.

I say c’mon, you’ve gotta know this song, but he doesn’t.

I imagine he winks at me,

gently takes the plastic basket from my hand,

& slips the tank-top strap off my shoulder.

Don’t start, I would say

I just need a donut. I take my basket to the bakery.

The case is full of stale bear claws

& I stuff fistfuls into my mouth while the plexiglass door

swings shut, rustling the paper in the case.

I leave the pastries

& go to the deli to stare at bowls

of colourful salads that taste like mayo

& green no.3 food dye. But in my mind,

they are good. I order a 1⁄4 pound of some jello-o thing

& head to self-checkout because I can’t

bear to make eyes at that clerk again. The green salad

shimmers like some alive thing in the plastic container,

like maybe I did see it move in the bowl earlier.

From the parking lot, the stars are barely visible

& I remember they’re mostly dead.

I wander around

& nobody notices

so I pick up a warm beer off the curb

& drink.

That same song comes on from the speakers attached

to the light poles. Goddammit, this song. Does anybody know

this song? Does anybody know it?