While I slept

I dreamt about grocery shopping
with a gal I used to know.
We never used a buggy or a basket
but in the dream she had
this army green rucksack
that she dragged across the dusty
industrial tile.

I always hated soy milk
and I swear to God she filled
half that bag with boxes of it,
then several jars of peanut butter
a single head of iceberg lettuce
and a King Size pack of Twizzlers.

I was walking
about ten paces in front of her
and drinking from a jug of wine,
not even bothering to screw the cap on
in between sips. I remember
squinting into the flourescent
lights.