by Shelley Landry
Target, my Target, with aisles so bright and wide
When I enter your shining doors, a smile I cannot hide.
Ipods, CDs, and movies for nine ninety-nine
I wonder where oh where could I find
Such a slew of objects to meet my every need
Like a screwdriver, crackers, and a life-sized steed?
“Stick to my list” becomes my mantra-
OOOO a new compilation of Frank Sinatra.
No, you don’t need a new chargeable flashlight
But what shall I do if day becomes night?
On that thought I should perhaps get a board game
Because staring at each other gets pretty lame.
OOOO a scrapbook…I’ve been meaning to start.
Just one more thing to slip in my cart.
Maybe a Starbucks Mocha since it’s in the store
What genius realized we all could use more.
Four dollars a pop- “Peanuts!” I say
Only one more item, and I’m on my way.
Oh wait, what’s this I see?
Storage bins on sale for one eighty three.
So dusty but, hark, Shout wipes ahead
While I’m here I need to clean the sheets on my bed
So…Ajax, Windex, gloves made of rubber
Clorox, Comet and a new pot scrubber
Wait, why am I on aisle seven…
Oh yes, the sheets, and Tide is only nine eleven.
My cart’s wheels squeak, and my mocha is gone,
And now, both the kids are starting to yawn.
Morning naps loom over my morning escape
And under my shoe is a smooshed grape.
Race walking to the newly opened checker
Beating the two cart lady, “Ha Sucker!”
Poor lady, it’s sad, can’t stick with her list
Man I bet her husband sure will be * (mad)
I pity her, really. It’s a pitiful sight
To observe this woman caught in her plight.
“She’s lost all control,” I silently judge
as her kids pigout on samples of fudge.
I sign my receipt and walk out the door
And feel the gentle bree- TWO SIXTY FOUR!!!
This cannot be right I steadfastly insist
And at this point I look at my list
Sadly, yes, the bill is true
And I didn’t get what I came for…
Diapers
Size two.
