Precaution and Cauliflower

a washed white ambulance followed me
on my bicycle today, down my driveway
windows tinted, rolled up, safe
from my mailbox to the supermarket, sirens shouting
where I assumed it would divert,
but no
it followed me right through the automatic doors,
leaving a cartoonish car-shaped cavity
and chased me down the frozen vegetables,
babies shrieking, misters misting,
through corn and cubed ham, I began
to fear for my life, for the irony,
for the snowpeas
but just as I surrendered to fatigue
dropping to linoleum knees
it skidded to a rest and three men leapt
to my aid, hut-hutting and telling me
you should really be more careful sir
anything can happen these days, what with
wars and bees and you without your helmet.