1 Wally World Poem by Edith Niemeyer

[Spoken Intro]
Oh why...
did I choose...
ROW THREE?

Pulled into Wally World—
hundred places to park...

And I picked
the one apparently located
in another county.

[Verse 1]
Pulled into Wally World, feeling pretty fine,
A hundred empty spaces all lined up in a line.
Could've parked up close, could've parked by the door—
But something in my brain said,
'Nah... Row 3's got more.'

Over hill, over dale,
Through the blazing sun,
Halfway to the entrance
I forgot why I had come.

[Pre-Chorus]
Opening doors I see now...
Shimmering through the heat,
Wally World keeps getting farther
With every step of my feet.

[Chorus]
OH WHY... did I choose Row 3?
There's a hundred places closer
Staring back at me!

Why don't they have a conveyor—
Just throw me on the belt!
I'm getting heat stroke walking
Through the parking lot from hell!

Pulling up the britches,
Trying to persevere—
I can SEE the doggone entrance,
But can't get there from here!

[Verse 2]
Cart goes rolling past me,
That cart's got more sense than I.
It caught a tailwind heading east—
I just waved and said goodbye.

A minivan passed twice,
Somebody offered me a ride.
Said, 'Lady, where you headed? '
I said, 'WALLY WORLD'S INSIDE! '

They looked toward the horizon,
Then slowly shook their head—
'Better pack some water.'
And away they went instead.

[Chorus]
OH WHY... did I choose Row 3?
I think I crossed a time zone
Somewhere near Row B!

Why don't they have a conveyor—
A moving sidewalk here?
Just toss me on and push the button:
WOMEN'S CLOTHING — FRONTIER!

Pulling up the britches,
Sweat running ear to ear—
The doors keep opening without me...
Can't get there from here!

[Bridge — dramatic expedition voice]
Over hill...
Over dale...

Past the cart return...

Past a Chevy...

Past a Ford...

Past a patch of asphalt
hot enough to fry an egg...

Britches slipping...

Patience gone...

Destination...

UNKNOWN.

[Spoken]
If anybody finds me...
Tell my family...

I almost made it.

[Final Chorus]
OH WHY... did I choose Row 3?
There were spaces by the entrance—
At least ninety-four!

Next time I'll park closer,
That's my solemn vow...

But I said that the last time, too—
And LOOK WHERE I AM NOW!

Pulling up the britches,
One last mighty cheer—
I finally reached those opening doors—

WAIT...

I LEFT MY PHONE IN THE CAR.

...

Can't get there from here.

[Outro — fading into the parking lot]
Over hill...
Over dale...

Back...

to...

ROW THREE...