Twelve Count

I’m standing in aisle four

counting the coins in my hand.

There’s a math to staying alive

that I didn't quite understand

until the carton went up a dollar

and the bread stayed the same.

I put the sourdough back on the shelf

and felt a stupid kind of shame.

The red light on the scanner

blinks like a cardiac arrest.

I’m just buying the protein

and letting go of the rest.