There is so much to choose from

There is so much to choose from

The shelves are laden with organic this,

Sulphate free that

Which I thought was where they were hosting

The next world cup

Jeux sans Frontieres

If my washing machine was big enough

I would fill it full of old countries

Rinse out a few republics

Mix in the separationists

With the anarchists,

Autocrats need a long soak

To remove the stains

Whatever happened to my Bermuda shorts

Traditional colonialism hanging in a line

Do they really dry tomatoes in the sun

Next to the dried fruit

That is never out of season?

I stood in front of the cheese for hours

Reciting lines from Python

And found a tin of spam in the basket

I thought it was out of stock

Out of time

Maybe corned beef will make a comeback

As the trade wars shape the world into a different place.

Fossil fuels are sucking the life

Out of us

When did a biscuit become a luxury item

My basket is a case file

With evidence of jury tampering

As the trans fats are thrown out

With the bottled water

Which was donated free to the needy,

I was never greedy,

When the truth is there should be enough

To go round

Without reclaiming land

For growing Poppy seeds,

When all we need is trees.

The irony of a shelf full of Bonsai

Miniature biospheres

Alongside phosphate-free fertilisers.

There should be an embargo

On cargo shorts

Worn by old men in sandals, wearing

Calf length socks

Buying Pinot Grigio.

There is always a queue at the checkout

People still choose to wait for a real person

To service their transaction

It brings them satisfaction

A kind of inbuilt feeling of superiority.

Everybody needs somebody

To say hello to them, now and again

Without being told to have a good day

By a machine