In Aldi

January 25, 2020

We are tired and we have no resistance

Are on a late quaint old-time steam bus rumble

Belonging nowhere now nor e'er a weary place to go

Crackpot ideas – their cred in steep arrears

They are leaning on life-support

Lost reason's beat-up respirators

Buyers in shopping aisles today I here declare

Their inordinate millennial mean streaks

Their animality – are infidel corsairs

Fair pheromones of musk

Mask brusque

Cruise up around and down arrayed commodities

Conveyancing carnalities

Here! clasp the last Chianti

The fragrant chamomile's ravaged

A lunge of inset interest endeavours what's been flagged

In treadle sighs from behind eyes

Where dainty rarebits work to scoop up well-appointed fads

Declare then this next man, this woman, bedfellow marauders

Whose appetite in emulation of the natural world

By sympathetic urge assumes to Neolithic hunters'

Primordial trolley shunters

A sullen tick of wrist, and lo, goes like a train

A trolley rumbling agonistes roughly by

The loon presumes to evacuate the 'specials' shelf

Absorbs a hoard of sugar, butter, swathes of aubergines

They're in the bag before another shopper sidling by

Awaiting sweetly contemplates an unjust shunt and springs

Decision comes to collision and she's won the day!

And has that covert cosset pot of jam away!

Mothers mooch. Manners fasting

Drown all delicacy dead

Comes here one who's contending and ferocious to the end

She's tussling on a rampage for a bacon hock

Makes an incision, thrusts-through opportunity

Asserts in spite of taste, post-haste, disturbs their blethers

These incident cadavers clumped blockading Satan's aisles,

Regardless. She by stealth makes cunning intifada -

A raider headlong on the money railroads by

His panic-handle shuffles, muscles up a mutton trophy

And thankful grabs a lucky rump: not hers