Adam and Eve
walk to the register with
two shopping carts.
“Put these together,” he ventures.
“Separate,” the woman says between
clenched teeth, clutching her
piles of somethings like
bras with smiley faces on the
nipples, panties with pink lace.
The man searches for
change in pockets, wallet, bags,
the bottom of his shoe.
The snake painted purple
moons under his eyes; she picks
at her cuticle and tells
him to hurry up.
“We’re divorced” he jokes, and she