Most products are abandoned,
your body one of them.
On the same aisles as Piña
Colada Mix
and pretzel twists we find your
arms
dangling over yellow boxes of
cereal,
legs pedaling through cans of
asparagus
and creamed corn, so they wheel
past you
through a busy highway
landscape.
Your eyes stare at the camera
that captures
every gold logo and gleaming
plastic flash
of candy bars and packaged
dinners,
but you blink before the lens
does.
After all, your expiration date
is soon
and soft hands will not weigh
your parts or ask for a price
check.
Your teeth chatter in the
freezer
by frozen fish fillets. Your mouth
kisses air on the top shelf,
above
a ladder no one ever thinks to
use.