People act so politely
out of learned routine and habit,
wearing an attire of masked civility
as they sleepwalk through the dance
of regurgitated social norms.
“How are you?” she asks while scanning each item
laid out upon the conveyor belt before her,
keeping one eye distractedly locked
on spying the length of the growing line
forming at register number three.
“Fine, fine, and you?” he replies, pulling out his debit card
and swiping it through the point-of-sale terminal
with a motion that has developed
into an act of second nature over time.
But should those grocery shelves
one day be empty,
and should their hungry bellies
begin to grumble and growl,
how soon shall it be
before such niceties are abandoned
at the store’s entrance
as carnage erupts in the aisles
over the necessities of survival?
