Tattoos in Mayberry

51,434 poems read

Co-Dependance Is The New Season

They opened up a new grocery market in our neighborhood. A baby giant,
two stories of space,with parking sloping upstairs, taking up an entire city block,
Like casino's, megamarkets don't make
their money,and continue to expand, by cutting any great deals.
In most markets, the customer rarely gets market value for
their purchase.  
I wasn't aware there were any more seasons than
summer, winter, spring or fall. I guess, seasons change, so you have 'New Seasons'
Not a weather forecast but a grocery store.  
company has tables and chairs and that makes it family friendly.
It's cafeteria style. I sense a price war is going on between them and the other
"family friendly," chain superstores.
Over night, coupons are everywhere like spring grass. and food appears to cost
a little bit less for more.
I am still waiting for that grocery store customer service experience
where the clerks at check out positively elated to serve you. The best in that department
is Trader Joes.
Living here while we are still
able to afford it, in this boom town where over 300 new people each day, are arriving here
to put down roots  
I have to work very hard so as not to become an old season, with all this newness
surrounding me.
I traversed through the check out line, and was asked 'how are you'  
"How are you", is not a complete sentence.
it's not a personal greeting, it's format, impersonal and non committal,
thus it's a tad annoying
followed by 'did you find everything you need?
No, I was looking for whale sperm but your store apparently is out of it right now.
I heard the jail house key was in aisle three,
but apparently, I walked right around it.
unconvinced she had the slightest interest in my well being,
I answered her with my best "I am well, thanks,
and how are you feeling today?"
Very good was her response.So, first I get a sentence
fragment from her,and then an answer that doesn't make sense.
Since, very good isn't a feeling.I told her this.
I said, actually, happy,sad, scattered,empty, hurt,rageful, angry, those are feelings.

she snapped back, defensively but, "I do feel fine. Daring me to feel her bicep.
I noticed her
posture shrink as her face blanched blotchy as she said this.
Resisting an urge to cop a feel of her fineness. Like examining a horse at an auction.
What if I had touched her arm. Or her wrist? What then could I
surmise about her feelings? As much as I could tell by the
odd blinking of her eye,and the bead of
sweat now forming over her brow.  
She had been discovered, unmasked for being out of touch with her feelings, poor dear
Sensing blood, and in a jousting mood
I went further in for the kill her,
 I asked her how often she suffered from
pesky mood swings? She said, there
are ups and downs. Again, ups and downs aren't really elation or feeling blue.
Still, I can't get an authentic feeling from her.
 I felt a sense of accomplishment having squeezed any kind of
dialogue from Check-out Barbie, no easy feat,
in a check-out line where I was making a one item purchase.
I reaffirmed how bi-polar disorder is
nothing to take lightly.
 Maybe taking a mood stabilizer might help her with her
"ups and downs.
I could almost see her synapses firing off in between her heated
prep school ears
I was doing my best to get to her.
It's my thing. Ups and downs are more of a physical exercise than a feeling, directly, I
mean. You can get a handle on up's and downs, depending on what kind  
 are we talking about: pills, sex, or pull ups.
I consider myself a semi-professional provacateur.
My pleasure, and my duty
to proudly represent paying customers everywhere being over
charged by clip joints like "New Seasons." Tweaking the system.
for stealing young women's souls. a larceny of the human spirit.
After all, everyone knows,there are actually only four seasons.
There are not any more new ones. So, how do you work there and not question these truths.
reasons reasons, for new seasons 'earth wind and fire'

 My seasons are the season of struggle, conflict, poverty, living day to day.
Yes, the next time I go to "New Seasons," I am going to order 5 pounds of sliced smoked
ham at 13 dollars a half pound, and proudly stuff it under my winter coat, march
boldy out the store and
skip the middle man or in this case
middle chick.
 Come on,26 bucks a pound for pig
meat maybe worth 5 dollars a pound.
Folks are right there to remind me
 how fortunate I am, with all the choices I have available at my fingertips
How lucky I am to live where if I work hard enough, I can have anything I want.
Except the jail house key and whale sperm. Why then an I an ungrateful wretch  
stepping on the crack
break daddy warbucks back.
I think I understand shoplifters who can't face these clerks.
Bypassing the hassle, embarrassment and falsity of these encounter./ Do wage slaves
really care about their store? I wonder?
 I could have my groceries delivered and have
the butler deal with them. But, I don't have a butler. Nor, is it looking like one
is forthcoming in the near or far future. But, fortunes change.
To be fair and honest, a cashier has to
deal with customer after customer
While more work is thrown at them
I was unfair with her. I was a troublesome customer.
If there was a button she could have pushed to call the goon squad,she would have been
pushing and pushing that button
until her fingernails broke.
 Aren't shoplifters doing overworked clerks a favor?
It's no wonder they seem mentally a million
miles away from their pods, thinking about their smoke
breaks and how much take home pay they will have this week,
with the overtime they have run up.
The secret password has become workaholic,
Work until you drop. Work can kill you.
The strain of  making just enough to squeeze by
even with extra hours are freely given.
They may have sinister plans on
how they might pay back
their employers for wasting their energies, service,
their life force soaked up like gravy on bread.
They call me a consumer, a useless eater
So,it's little wonder I want to mess with the man.
I wonder if and how much her employer
really gives a rat's ass about her?
Why do I write this? Why do I care?
She may be thinking
about sneaking out her pound of
thinly sliced overpriced ham like I have thought about doing.
 My constitutional right to offend stops at your nose.
I hear this ringing in my ears, like some absolute
voice of reason.  But, societies nose seems to have gotten bigger, more
intrusive. I am the new Pinnochio. Yay. Rah...
What I really wanted to say to the cheerleader boy toy
 check out girl,
was since  you're raping me with
these prices, can I match the favor and meet you later
 after you get off work hours from now.
I promise to use lubrication.
I will even do you with a smile and bathing in the warmth of
my afterglow, I'll ask you indifferently,
"how you are" this evening,
did you find everything you need?  
Seems like a square deal,
balance each other's register.
 Inject her loins with the total shopping experience.
She probably has other plans. Is setting other mouse traps.
Frying other fish.
 Like how she is going to pay her bills,
 if and when New Seasons lays her off, once
she's been there long enough to cost them more than
they would have to pay a new cashier to replace her.
the level of suspicion snowballing  
just behind the dark twinkle of her eyes
Melting my produce section,
topping my combination pizza with fresh mushroom spores  
I want you to do everything in your power to please me at the register.
Check out girl, restore my spirit, and temporal happiness. I  think I love you,
check out girl
and my new season is you.

Buddy Bee Anthony

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Co-Dependance Is The New Season