And Then I Will Surely Die

If I went out today, just one person I have yet to meet will kill me for sure. If I do go though I will buy rice, beans, and chicken, but there is a chance, perhaps remote, but a chance all the same, that the rice, beans, and chicken will have been molested by diseased hands and then I will surely die, unless I wash my hands and bury them in the backyard under a full moon. If I go out today I must be as crafty as a fox or snake, I must slink, and slither through the crush of other shoppers, I must breathe through a tube attached to the internet where nothing bad ever happens, unless of course a virus has mutated into digital space and then I will surely die.