a quiet list of unsettled matters when i go to the grocery store

3:00 p.m.

i. cotton
      blooming orange            over cobalt, rhythmic breathing. there’s a pool
                                        of gnats.
ii. Insoles            damp, it smells
        of feet. neon pink laces strewn aside, deteriorating
                                       foam.
iii. forgotten
          jacket on the sidewalk, zip-up, child’s size eight.
iv. brown juice
     from the grasshoppers, cricket chirps           and tobacco. stains
                                   on the porch.

v. rice
     grains clinging to china. silverware stacked
                         in the sink dripping. stillwater
                                        in a bowl.
vi. trash bags
     , overfilled cans. froth flies, last week’s dessert. lunch                          in the toilet.

vii. cow (alive)
cheese, bread, lettuce, tomato, ketchup. pickles.

viii. non-slip coat hanger.
celsius ooze stuck on the counter.
ant swarms.

ix. carpet                                             imprints on knees, damp
     beige. drowned                                                     breathing. in a pool
                                        of gnats.

x. father’s day card.
who? yes. ok. fine.

xi. poison
ivy on a bike
ride home.

xii. butter
     in the keto aisle.
               make it go
                                                        faster.

xiii. anecdotes of the dead.

3:01 p.m.

Sophia Pan is from Chicago, IL and loves reading and writing slightly disturbed poetry. Besides poems, Sophia also enjoys writing critical essays, and her research writings have received recognition from the John Locke essay competition and Scholastic. Sophia’s poetry can be found in Aster Lit, silk and ink magazine, Vermillion Lit, and others.