milk

you lift
the carton
off the shelf
from the bright
cool light of
the refrigerator
and even before
you open the lid
to smell, you
know already that
it's gone bad,
that's it's sour,
that it's
shelf life has
expired. the
occasional smile
and touch
of that
bright light
didn't save
it, nor did the
cool dark air
in which it sat
for so long,
unstirred,
untouched and
perhaps
in some strange
way, unloved.