COLES

Coles fills me with dread

as I ply the aisles

looking for my daily bread.

Something happens to my head.

First there’s the guard,

is he armed?,

before I reach the dairy farm.

He’s in form and full of steroids

and nursing those hemorrhoids he’s got

from lifting all those weights.

And that reminds me —

if I buy twelve items or less,

I wont have to wait.

Are these eggs free range?

You should know by now

there’s no such thing as free range,

it’s all pastoral leases

populated by pastoralists,

or pistoralists,

as you may more correctly insist.

Anyway we’ll have to sell the cow

or spear the sheep,

at least the prices aren’t too steep.

© Pete RM Cuppaidge