I ventured into the urban jungle,
To replenish my supplies…
As the hungry hoards at my abode,
Have eaten all the pies…
Yes the tucker box was empty,
And the fridge was looking sad…
So I was off to forage for some food,
With the little cash I had…
Now this place they call the supermarket,
Can be a dangerous place indeed…
Don’t be too complacent,
When you’re searching for a feed…
They have these things called trollies,
A crude and ancient cart…
Which you have to wrestle with,
The minute you depart…
Sideways down the aisles,
With a thumping of the wheels…
As you travel up and down,
In search of all those deals…
There is another trap,
Which really sucks you in…
A light that flashes red,
And some bargains in a bin…
It causes quite a frenzy,
Angry mobs are attracted to the light…
With a skirmish of hostile shoppers,
Who soon begin to fight…
It best be left alone,
Just continue you on your way…
Remember to stick to your list,
And all will be okay…
I move to unknown territory,
This was the health food aisle…
Where you find women dressed in active wear,
And dieters in denial…
I make a hastily retreat,
Down to the frozen foods…
Where you won’t find a master chef,
Or people with attitudes…
This is the land of simple things,
For those who cannot cook…
No need of some degree,
Or recipes from a book…
Where everything is boxed or bagged,
No preparation to be done
This is for the other mob,
Who like to eat and run…
Once I grab all of my groceries,
To the checkouts I must go…
Where you line up like cattle,
To pay the money that you owe…
Once you have made payment,
And departed with your cash…
You return into the carpark,
With a hundred meter dash…
Now the shopping's done and dusted,
All my nerves are nearly shot…
I head on home again,
With the bargains that I got …
Len Newey 2016