Scan Fail

Red light blinks—refuses, spits back

at my trembling carton, stubborn and cold.

Fingers press, shift the smudged sticker

under flickering bulbs, the cold light’s hold.

Line grows long, impatience settles thick—

somebody’s breath, stale with waiting’s weight.

I tap the screen, curse the thin plastic,

barcode peeling, lost to its fate.

A whispered sigh slips through the space,

as numbers freeze beneath the glass.

The scanner’s glare like a closed fist—

no code to catch, no pass to pass.