fruitless

i can't handle it anymore,

my tolerance

and patience

for such

ineptness has dwindled down

to nearly nothing.

i try one metal basket

after another, searching

for one

that doesn't have a wobbly

wheel.

it's fruitless, so i give up,

reluctantly,

and push the broken

shopping cart

down the aisles.

squeaking,

shaking, veering into

the rows of bananas and peaches,

knocking over

a stack of apples,

and kiwi from the west

indies.