Supermarket Blues Poem by Andy Brookes

Two for one but one get on free the aisles loaded flashy labeled and neat
shiny apples and luscious fruit which is tasteless and bland
music is piped in like water, a constant rush, as bland as the fruit.

nothing is what is it seems stacked faux and listless
cheese in plastic wrappers with same taste or yogurts in tubs with bright fruit, like nothing in nature, too blinding and sweet looking, sanitized for the consumer.
Ready meals stacked the packaging show tasty tempting meals
but I have been fooled to often to be lured in by their false promises

the cow on the milk black and white almost smiling yet the eyes are baleful
almost resentful as their lives are one of servitude, for ever pregnant, t
they walk the daily grind twice daily to the milking parlour.
boxes of eggs bright yellow and lurid with symmetrically brown eggs
proclaim the logo happy eggs I wonder if the hens that produce them are.

colours allure, blind us, a shopping experience I could do without
organic stalls in the farmers market are only for deep pockets
and mine are decidedly shallow.

So I dig into my pocket at the till where a sullen assistant beep beeps my purchases I smile encouragingly hoping for a return
but she stares through me as she chews her gum discontentedly
ten fifty she say no please or thank you.

Paying I sigh and think at least, thanking my blessing, I will be fed for another week.