Supermarket   So there I was, schlepping down the aisles, back bent to my cartload of well-rehearsed miseries, my mind at war with their wiles — their calculations of my hungers, thirsts and unexamined wants, their tricks of product placement, clever confounding of need and desire, music turned muzak and bodies made fleshless, forgetful that we’re eating our seed corn. I guess I have a bad attitude — I just didn’t belong there. Then I heard a faint chirrup and a mad flutter in the trusses above — a sparrow was flitting from perch to perch, trapped, far from its friends. A hell of a place to starve.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont October 2013