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A beautiful night for a grocery run

A beautiful night for a grocery run

“It’s a beautiful night for a grocery run,”

I say to the sleeping form of my silhouette

As I slip quietly past the ill-stocked refrigerator

Light. Encompassing my footsteps,

The now-revealed, rightly-named,

Beautiful night welcomes me.

The car, it seems,

Had achieved the unrousable sleep

And now wines at its beckoned stirring.

Yet together we are interstellar travelers

On the drive to the market.

Street light nebulas bringing forth ill attitudes

Buzz cohabitationally with the law of relatively

Obeyed traffic laws.

The grocery store pavement discovers

Its newest inhabitants:

Machine and man.

Automobile and its provider

Of many terrific pilgrimages.

The sunlight wanes

Much more beautifully than it waxes.

The magnitude of this thought escapes me.

And I instead land on the less convoluted truth

That grocery store sunsets are simply better.

I have no idea as to why, nor do I have need of the answer.

Maybe the sky encourages consumerism,

Or is it delaying capitalism from claiming another victim?

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