going to the shops

Wandering, in your own world,

a bit of a dream, towards the big place where all the stuff you eat lives.

Thinking about other things all the while, as you pop a pound into the trolley

nodding to the security guard

who looks sleepily toward you, but on the ball, he nods right back




not realizing it is a luxury.

As you think of things you want to buy.

Shall I buy some lemons

or some curly kale?

I will get a large head of garlic.

some bananas.

Oh, I think I will wander to where the milk is and grab some juice while I am at it.

what is on special offer? Don’t forget the cat food. And oh, we need toilet roll.

There is so and so. lets stop and chat awhile about something pointless and move on promising to see each other soon. It’s only been five years.

I don’t think I want to go to the shops now.

I don’t know when they are open or if anything is on the shelves.

they look quite bare in pictures I see and I am not one to fight for things.

Shops are busy and teeming with people who may cough on or breathe in my direction.


Sunny days,

sun crashing through fast clouds

and windy sky.

Silver metal of trolleys clanking

You fumble for a pound.

Oh shit, I’ve none.

No worries.

gloves and mask

just fumble away for the metal in your pocket tainted by others’ hands.

things are crumbling and no one knows if your pound is ok.

You have got this.

Push it in, release your shopping cart

and push.

Roam free and think of what to buy.

or maybe you have a list.

How could I ever say I miss shopping?

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