Sometimes it is convenient to have a grocery bag.
Though the pressing of some things together
Makes for a clashing of taste.
Other things simply do not rest easy.
Take the cucumber that got shredded by the bicycle wheel.
Salad followed me home, basking in the sun
And passing its peak alone.
Back outside the fridge
I ring out the cherries from the ham, daffodils from the pie.
Other misfits give me cause for alarm
And the carrier bag is discharged with confusion all around.
Next time I will juggle my groceries home the way I please.
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