Living On Three Continents: Supershop
After reading Susan Siddeley's super speed-along poem you will probably be more cautious the next time you go supermarket shopping.
thirty aisles all yawning wide,
packed with GOODS from side to side.
everywhere you care to look,
FOOD and TOYS and POTS are stuck.
back to front, bottom to top -
one aisle’s full of orange POP!
things you just didn’t know existed,
things you never would have listed:
CHOCOLATE BROOMSTICKS, PLASTIC SNAKES,
SPEARMINT JELLY and RAINBOW SHAKES.
with cart to fore I prepare to sally
on Red Alert - down each waiting alley;
grabbing here, picking there,
selecting things with utmost care:
APPLES, GRAPEFRUIT, CARROTS, PEAS,
SUGAR, CORNFLOUR, assorted TEAS.
on a bottom shelf BAKED BEANS I spy,
then PLUM JAM perched up on high.
pleased at finding good things cheap,
I pile more stuff upon the heap -
A PAINTED TRAY, WINE on special,
CONDENSED SOUP, a new CREAM FACIAL -
mounting in the expectant trolley
as I dash round. AND THERE’S THE FOLLY!
when I check again the things I’ve chosen
I know I’ve not put anything FROZEN
nor those CORNFLAKES, not that canned BEER,
nor half the things I seem to have here.
where’s my COFFEE and those nice FLOWERS,
- stuff I’ve been stockpiling hours?
I’m hot all over. I’m in quite a sweat
and someone’s FURIOUS with me I’ll bet.
I’ve got the WRONG CART and I could be
in very HOT WATER should anyone see.
with furtive glance to either side,
I toss the stray goods in a bin of TIDE,
then continue my aisle-winding way,
hoping the price I finally pay
will be for my load and Mine Alone,
(though dumping things I don’t condone).
then buggy full to overflowing
I reach the CHECKOUT and start queuing.
though lines are long at least there’re fifty,
plus BOYS to bag, who’re pretty nifty.
in every sense I’m fully spent:
my feet are sore, my back is bent.
emerging from this SHOPPING BENDER
(and “where’s my CAR? I can’t remember.)
I find Day has gone and Dusk’s descended,
but my GROCERY ACCOUNT - Fully Rendered.
