I’m Tired and the Lettuce Here is Not Fresh

The lettuce here is not fresh.
It is withered and flaccid.
I pick one up anyway thinking
that I could resuscitate it later
with my car battery,
that is how tired I am.
True slumber sweet rest
has become elusive.
Sleep decides when I can sleep,
when I can dream of sheep dreaming sheep.
I find that the cucumbers
are staring at me.
I back away slowly
into a young lady.
I’m sorry.
No, I’m not.
would you like a cucumber?
No, I didn’t mean it that way.
I don’t think so anyway.
The meat section was worse
if you can believe that.
I sure can!
I rolled on up there
still carrying the dead lettuce in my hand
not having bothered to bag it.

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6 thoughts on “I’m Tired and the Lettuce Here is Not Fresh

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