Grocery, Ah Me

Eye contact we must shun by any means;

The grocery store is certainly no place

For human moments as we shop for beans

And milk and fruit and dog food. Let no face

Make an appearance in our field of view!

So seems the modus of my fellow man

As we peruse the aisles, as we look through

The wares from which to choose. Was this the plan?

That we lapse into middle-distance stares,

Our eyes glazed over; people now no more

Than obstacles to navigate? Who cares

That human life teems by the score

And still there's loneliness. At last I meet

One pair of eyes; a smoker on the street.