Baskets made of

Melted plastic

And welded wire,

In patterns of checkered lattice,

No pieces stacked…two high.

Forming holes large just enough for the cart to breathe,

Forming gills for the shopping cart.

Allowing the cart to focus on aerodynamics.

Allowing the cart to breath underwater.

But small enough so  that the  purchased groceries can’t escape.

Only crumbled shopping lists and

Ancient receipts are capable of this.

For some children this is a sailboat.

Coming in multitudes of color and  arrays of  different

Attitudes,

(Varying  only in the seminal category of magnitude )

Functionality makes up one third of their existence,

Maintenance and companionship make up  the other two pieces,

To this pie chart that exists in a place that frequently sells pies.

(Among other infinite pastries)

These are quintessential qualities to

Their central condition.

Trapped in prisons built entirely of

Burning brick and

Molten mortar,

Cooled only by the breath of the frozen food aisle.

They are herded like cattle at the end of each day,

A time honored practice,

In a place governed by time-clocks.

The carts will try and put their foot down,

To stay out of the  rusty corrals,

Located in the middle of the sweaty parking lots,

Trying to desperately skid to a stop.

As they are are pushed

Closer and closer towards extinction.

But some of the wheels barely touch the ground, 

Some of these same unfortunate wheels,

Who long ago lost both their bearings

And their sense of direction.

 Spin infinitely

Spin untimely.

Faster  though than any  propeller is capable of  revolving.

Faster though than any chambered bullet.

Faster than the  inevitable trajectory of umbrellas snatched up,

During a tornado.

And then left to trickle back down to earth like

Dandelion seeds.

Gathered in groups around

The warmth of the red stop signs,

Trying to avoid

The employees who wear  their  good sneakers in the rain.

Staying closest to the side with the garden section,

Clinging to the side that has the most life.