Allegory of the Supermarket

Procession of death,

Day-glo death,

Potato death,

Death of strawberry.

Death strapped into a handi-six-pack

Death in vodka, score the vitamin-fortified cigarette cough.

Juice of discourage in a box,

Broccoli piled up man-felled tree

How lengthy have I been in here?

Our faces gaze left, right, slow, so deliberate so sleepy

We reach for the non-fat,

The boxe of breadsticks, the circular glue of pregnancy.

No individual ever says, really, anything.

Plastic bags from the make revolve rippp

Let's grab a lettuce from the stacks of lettuce

Bee in the bonnet upon the label of the jar of honey

Darling: the non-world-yellow cheese,

the price,

the size chosen by the agency of a stranger's desire,

for my teeth

Box of nourishment for the pet at place of abode standing in our kitchen.

The shelves of canned fruit, golden bullets of mustard jars

The piles of onions, the dusty garlic piles,

The triangular figure of tomatoes,

The baskets we lay our deaths down in

Fetching cans of halos.

Cry into your toilet paper,

your spray starch,

your light scaly buds and lobsters in tanks near the cashier's booth

their claws held together by means of rubber bands

Cry into that water

Fish belly up upon the Styrofoam surfaces

in refrigeration

headless feetles chickens

Turkey across the aisle, lookalike big bodies, frozen

Shelves of bread loaves like big leather shoe of sad advanced in years clerks

not like

smell of yeast and life's

an unclose wound, festering, and a feast of idiots

No dignity, my darling,

in these last three hours of the world.

Copyright World metrical composition Incorporated Jul/Aug 1996

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