I glance up and see him, pushing his shopping cart
he is sporting overalls and an enormous white beard
I’m sure he drives a white truck with flag (U.S. or Confederate?)
I’ve been accosted by his type before, in Iowa:
Hey Jap! Go back where you came from!
So I am wary
He’s speaking to me right now
They have a sale on bananas! A whole bag for just a dollar!
He points to a small paper brown bag in his cart
Your kids will love ’em!
I’m jolted – surprised – dismayed
How does he know I have kids?
And I realize that what is in my cart
are bags of suspicion, dread and cynicism