November 13, 2006

So quick, that I’m not really sure that it’s
happening. Items whisked,
brisk like debris over river
flotsam. I give out my credit card
slowly – like a pensioner
calculating the price of tights.

In yellow light that smells of
fake bakeries, there is
no eye contact-she
feeds it through a
blind machine of dark plastic.
and opens up her bow of mouth:

enter your number.
Do you need
Intial here.
Thankyou. Goodbye.

And then she’s gone, hands
pressed into another womans
long length of runner beans
and bag of things
to keep in dark and
cluttered cupboards

My branded soldiers
are wrapped in plastic.
We take each other home.


5 Responses to “Somerfield”

  1. The soullessness of supermarkets. I live opposite a Somerfield but rarely shop there as I’m lucky ennough to live near plenty of fine small local and specialist shops. Every time I do shop in Somerfield it feels like an alien world.

    Fine poem, thanks for sharing.

  2. bee said

    hi, lydia…

    i traced you back! thank you for the wonderful compliments from a few days ago…you made my day.

    i’ll be back as well.

  3. Allen said

    You managed to make an ordinary purchase an extraordinary experience Lydia.

    I especially enjoyed the line, “I give out my credit card slowly – like a pensioner calculating the price of tights.” Wonderfully vivid.

  4. i like the long length of runner beans … sexy …

  5. Thanks everyone. Think I still need to redraft a bit, but mainly it’s just good to be writing. Glad the beans sounded sexy Fishbone – and that the tights were appreciated Allen.

    Crafty Green, I checked your site out earlier, looks good. I try and shop in small shops when I can but need to get better at it. I gather there’s a place in Leicester (where I live) selling everything ethical, ethically. Sure someone said it was on your site Fishbone-but can’t find it now. Hmph.

    The only good thing about shopping in supermarkets, is the superior snapping of recycled carrier bags (when you’ve remebered them) at the people in the queue behind you who haven’t. Ah. Small joys.

    But nothing’s as evil as the ‘Walmart Family’

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