the grocery cart

you've picked
the wrong shopping
cart again,
the one with
the wobbly wheel
that sticks and
spins, but you
push on because
you already have
milk and bread
in the cart, and
a bottle of wine,
you have a
committment with
this cart. and
you remember someone
telling you recently
like last night,
that you have
a phobia about
committment,
so you feel that
you have something
to prove. but
the cart wants
to veer left
no matter how hard
or how much you pull
and straighten
it out. it squeaks
loudly. but you stick
with it, and try
try to deny the thought
that this cart
is a portent of
some significance.
you push on. you
are not afraid.