Groceries

I am a paper bag
before the storm

my bones protrude
ominously
like the fins
of a shark
above the waves

my hair
once a field of wheat
now resembles
Kansas
in the 1930's

my legs
as unstable
as a three legged barstool
ridden by a drunken fat man
leaning back
tempting gravity

my spirit
exhausted
from the constant battles
forever retreating
and now my back
is against the wall

I am a paper bag
before the storm
and the forecast
is for rain