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At the Checkout

by Gabe Zamora

Items thrown onto the table
Flung about without any thought
Stray items litter the empty gum containers
Shampoos and lunch meat too expensive
Last minute decisions are easily noticed

My turn to checkout
All eyes on me
A magazine and some bread
Nothing too big but my face burns red
Looking away is impossible

Cash or credit
Paper or plastic
Simple decisions are the hardest to make
I pay in cash and I carry my items
Dead presidents on recycled paper

This world moves too fast
As the items spill over
With all eyes on me
I walk out of the store
My bread is crushed

05/18/2009

Posted on 05/19/2009
Copyright © 2025 Gabe Zamora

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Jo Halliday on 05/19/09 at 06:06 AM

Works in a lot many more ways than one for me. Not simply evoking checkouts; life, noons, journeys, oh so many things. I love the last line especially, it could have been easy for a lesser writer to say "with bread crushed" or a cryptic "Bread crushed": the "My bread is crushed" is so emphatic in a lost cause and gives this such tragic power, a wryly tragic power! And also if you deliberately used "checkout" and not "check out" as a verb, then that was brilliant again. Cool, cool write!

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/11/09 at 02:22 PM

Good poem Gabe. Has an all too familiar ring, only now my local supermarket has starting charging 5 cents per plastic bag. Congrats also on POTD!

Posted by Dave Fitzgerald on 06/11/09 at 03:39 PM

Congrats on POTD Gabe!!!

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 06/11/09 at 04:01 PM

Congrats on POTD!

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