People think that because I’m a shopping cart, I don’t know anything about the world.
They use me, push me around, and then discard me. This is not the first time I’ve been abandoned. It’s just that this time I’m feeling vulnerable and lonely here on this island triangle (Bill Brown Square at the intersection of Jerome Avenue and Sheepshead Bay Road).
I’ve read John Donne’s literary work “Meditation XVII” — and I share his belief that “no man is an island”. Okay, so I don’t have a heart or a brain — but, I’m more of a man than that cold-hearted two-legged creature who pushed me onto this island.
When I was back home at the supermarket, at least I felt the interconnectedness of my friends. Here, I’m constantly reminded of my mortality. My wheels can’t afford to move an inch or I’ll go crashing from this lonely island to the netherworld.
Still, it is a line from the same verse that gives me some comfort…”and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” So, the next time you hear the mid-day bells chime at the Saint Mark’s Church on Ocean Avenue, think of me and remember that none of us is an island, even if we live on one.
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