Express Lines

Tattooed with bar codes,

I check myself out.

Pocketing readers,

pulling in paunch

–angling stance just so–

the bubbled mirror

distorts

–reflecting 2 ways.

I scan

–and skip–

to suit my taste

(bell knelling all the while)

independence

(scan)

loneliness

(skip)

good nature

(scan)

terrible regrets

(skip)

OK today

(scan)

fears

(skip)

Shoulder chip

malfunctioning

due to persistent cold

I sigh,

cherry-pick

staples

and forego

treats

–the cost

of both considerably higher than I remember–

and at the same time

their value

lackluster,

leaving what I wanted most

–and came especial to get–

on the side

(with other impulse buys there)

Cramming the lot

into baggage in tow,

I smile automatically

as I exit

–a walking emoji

brimming w imitation

joie de vivre–

escaping notice

through

emotion-sensing

doors.