Saying Grace
You should consider yourself lucky
to not host or cook on this holiday.
For traveling through the store is sucky;
pop some pills to prep for some dismay.
Hark, Wegmans! Chopper ahead! Ho, Tops!
Find the first spot, park your car, prepare to walk.
The fun never seems to ever want to stop.
You made it this far; it’s best not to balk.
Once again you decided to hesitate.
Once again you forgot an ingredient.
This store’s where you’ll meet your fate.
Traffic flow of carts is never obedient.
Thou shalt not hesitate, it is not ample.
Standing there is useless, so do not dwell.
As you snag that last bag of Empire apples
a little old lady screams, “I’ll see you in hell!”
While running your basket, your feet do skid,
dodging people and dashing down aisles,
meet a challenge, hop over a leashed kid.
You’re making good time; there is no denial.
Beets and beans and carrots and white corn
Green beans and peas and lentils and yellow corn
Tomatoes and olives and shrooms and creamed corn
Disorganized cans! Oh, the scorn — more corn!
Cut to the freezer: no vanilla ice cream.
Whats the use?!? Why the trying?!?
The a la mode is ruined! One could just scream!
Crouch into fetal, cue the crying.
“Cleanup in frozen,” shouts the P.A.
A crowd gathers to observe the scene:
An adult howling, a sobbing melee.
The manager, pissed, has to re-mop and sheen.
Cue the recovery, cue the applause.
Finish the checkout, get escorted out.
Time to go home, make some applesauce.
Listen to Guthrie or The Band — smile and rock out.
Wait … The crust … The eggs for the pie …
You’ve got to be kidding?!
Gotta return to the store for a second try …
Hope you all have a better Thanksgiving.
