Groceries

I drove across the kingdom of America

looking for a girl, three thousand miles,

a dozen donuts, and seven bottles of water,

and a highway hotter than hell, hell yes.

I wrote a poem for her while driving,

didn’t give a damn about the road,

I became a part of it, tarry and cracked

just as life without her.

Stopped by a grocery store,

there she stood, all beautiful and shit.

Who would’ve known I’d meet her in produce

in the arms of another man.