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(15 December 1973 / London, England)

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The Supermarket

I paid a visit to the shops,
On the arrival my wits died;
Money was exercised and I was made,
My own business stayed in the eyes,
The money made me rich and also richer.
No game was in the air, the shops,
The shops, and more shops.
This was a supermarket bustling with goods,
Food employed me to encounter it,
The wit of dying came to ruins,
The care of dying was living,
And this was the supermarket.

Submitted: Thursday, June 09, 2011
Edited: Saturday, June 11, 2011


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