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Life in the Grocery Business

by Eric Hinkle

The first thing you notice is the noise.
You walk through the squeaky doors
and are immediately bombarded by it.
Voices blasting out of the loudspeakers,
"Floor coverage on three, please!"
Cash registers blip-blipping
without a pause in sight.
Babies crying like starving kittens,
kids screaming like inflamed monkeys,
parents yelling like babbling idiots,
and old geezers gasping in pain.
Boxes being slammed on shelves,
a mountain of soda cases tumbling down,
electric scooters whizzing by,
and the security alarm blaring
with no one around.

Then you see the people.
The prehistoric lady who
you can't tell is even moving
unless you watch her for ten seconds.
The overweight, smelly couch potato
in the snack aisle,
grabbing saturated fat
and sodium by the armload.
The tragic poor woman
with the torn up windbreaker
and only one lens in her frames.
And the rich, belligerent jackass
with a complaint for everything
and a "thank you thank you kind soul!"
for no one.
The wonderful world of a cashier,
routinely serving assholic maniacs
and bastardly dimwits.


12/3/06 11:00-11:22pm

11/16/2008

Posted on 11/17/2008
Copyright © 2024 Eric Hinkle

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/17/08 at 06:10 AM

I think I like this one most of your new pieces, especially with this one seems to be so packed with relentless, vibrant but still brutal language. Really, really nicely done.

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