The gray asphalt of the Walmart parking lot
makes the empty bags almost blend in
as the wind kicks them around like a child's soccer ball.
I grab ahold of one, the label reading
Warning: Choking Hazard - Not for children under 3

The theater is chilly, the projector's light almost blinding
if it weren't for the two hours I've sat captive, staring at this screen.
Creeping towards an unsuspecting guard, the hero throws a bag over their head.
As they struggle and choke and cough, I catch a glimpse of the text
Warning: Choking Hazard - Not for children under 3

I dream of a turtle swimming amongst vibrant coral,
its mind unaware of bigger problems that taint the surface,
when it spots the strange grey fish.
Driven by hunger, it approaches, mind set on one goal.
But it fails to see the label (how could it)
Warning: Choking Hazard - Not for children under 3

I wake and grope for my phone
only to see notifications about wildfires and political unrest
and dead turtles and movie theater flops,
and as my psyche grasps for some good news,
Warning: Choking Hazard - Not for children under 3.