It is all
too much
squish.
Tomatoes
leer
rub red
against the flesh.
There is danger
in their eyes
as the carts
chart collision courses.
Killers are everywhere,
mushrooms disguise as evolution

I keep the juices intact,
encased in animal skin.
We pick out food
for ripeness and color.
The cucumbers smirk
and beckon.
My veins pop
like grapes between fingers.
I wheel metal
through bins.