Long Cashiers Poems
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It’s been three weeks
since I was in the grocery store,
and an emptiness weighs,
as if I’d lost a friend.
The government issued orders
for people like me,
calling it “social distancing.”
“Stay home,” they say.
Going to a place containing what I need--
things like crumbled feta cheese,
or low sodium pasta sauce,
is like being with a trusted companion.
Greeting cashiers by name
makes each spree a social event,
as well as a lifesaving one
that refills the pantry.
My last visit began with an App,
where I selected what I wanted,
and ended when a stranger
put bags into the back of my car.
My larder might be full,
but my heart feels empty--
deprived of its weekly ritual
of hunting and gathering with friends.
Supermarket celebration
shoppers are cytoplasm searching
for cellulose, muscle, photosynthesis.
Oils, petrochemical and vegetable
love: faith and trust
for instance, the Food and Drug Administration.
In America, the custom is
to avoid meeting the other shoppers' eyes. We graze
like cows or wander as zombies to the oldies played over the aisles.
I've always liked it here.
Cornucopia, yes. Also
a place to be alone and depressed, or cool off.
Water and bone
and the known ingredients. Neurons
for remembering, calculating, touching stuff.
I have a favorite bagger
who has the smile of a lover,
wouldn't rather be elsewhere.
Like glamour stars in bikinis
(but unlike tomatoes and bananas)
cashiers and clerks are admired from afar.
Joe says What's not to like? Ice cream, yogurt,
profit, tofu.
To eat your fill is a blasphemy against God.
JY and I met through a mutual friend in 1991.
We strucked a deal with a handsome transaction,
In which we both were in a win-win situation.
Since then, we became close friends,
Every week, she travelled a long way to see me,
Made big efforts bringing sample of deserts.
Which she made and delivered to many shops,
Displayed closed to the cashiers
And available for purchasing by the shoppers.
Once, she moved from North West inner city,
To South East outer suburban's villiage.
That did not stop her from visiting me.
That was how good she had treated and loved me as a friend.
The last time we spent going holiday together,
Travelling to Sydney with her partner.
It was nearly two decades ago.
Since then, as time went pass,
Our relationship gradually torn apart.
From time to time, she promised we would meet,
Eventually she broke all her promises,
But at least she rang to apologise,
After letting me waited at the meeting places.
Once, I waited for one hour
While working in the front garden of my house,
She called to tell me she was in Overseas.
Since then, I promised myself,
I never believe or trust her again.
One decade has gone,
She continued calling me,
I tactfully made excuses.
That I was very busy which was true.
I had no more time to wait on her.
Eventually, her partner disclosed to me,
She suffered Bipolar, a mental disease.
When she were happy and functioned normally,
She always made promises to people,
Genuinely thinking of pleasing them,
Then, when her moods were affected,
She forgot all her promises,
And unintentionally offended people including me.
Ever since I learned about her mental health issue,
I understood better and never
Angry or blamed her any more.
Each time she called and suggested we meet,
I just politely thanked for her offer,
Claiming I was busy with my daily activities.
Like playing piano, swim, travel, embroidery,
Poem writings and now A.I. helping
To make music and songs from my own poems.
This year, I met JC,
He behaved and resembled so much of my friend,
But I was unsure, if he suffered the same kind of mental illness.
Then, I would treat him accordingly without bitterness.
Have you found your bargain
So many will camp out
To get a present on a deal
The lines will wrap around
The outside doors
When the door opens be careful
For they stampede in trying to enter
Many get injured if not fast or big enough
Everyone will get there gifts
They have been longing on
Then it's time to check out
And the lines are just as long
For we have called all the
Cashiers to the front and hired
All that would work for seasonal help
But the lines are just constant
My friend over to far right side
They have this new register
With not many seeing it
There is no waiting or lines over here
The problem is you will have
To check yourself out
But this register is much different
There will be one to turn on your light
To let others know you have
Now entered into a working progress
Place your hatred through here
And love will come through
Scan your envy and giving you receive
Keep working we ain't done yet
For this has to be done through
Each person that comes through this line
Have any questions about any barcodes
The answers for all are
Placed under the light
Only problem is if you
choose this line
Before you are able to go
Through the door to receive your gift
Your old self will have to remain in the store
And the new creation and living being
Shall have a chapparone
That will open the door to everlasting life
Love you all , Happy Thanksgiving
Be careful if you are traveling
If you are reading I will not give up on you. Love ya
This is a parable my friends I do not fight the crowds
Broad is the highway to death, few on the path to life
Come sit by the fire... let's reminisce
About this and that, about what makes us sing
Watching a robin take its first flight
Or a squirrel scurrying up a tree
The sun coming out from behind the clouds
The gentle breeze blowing the leaves in autumn
The gentle snow flakes softly falling in winter
Covering the ground like a warm blanket
Or is it the laughter of a baby
The purring of a kitten
The sound of cows mooing in the field
The twinkling stars on a warm summer's eve
A shooting star
The hum of the city
Which tells us we're one of many
Enjoying life on this amazing planet of ours
The roar of a jet engine
Taking people away on a happy vacation
The sound of a marching band
The smile on the cashiers face
As she wishes you to have a great day
So many images throughout life
Remind us how amazing it is to be alive
To experience these simple pleasures
To conjure up these amazing vignettes
Of the wonders we see and feel every day
I still remember my very first day at school
That was seventy-five years ago
But it's just like it was yesterday
Attending my very first baseball game
And none other than Jackie Robinson
Playing second base for the Montreal Royals
In his very first professional baseball game
I could go on and on but as I age
My memory is not as reliable as it once was
Memories are wonderful to try to hold on to
To look back on a life filled with happiness and joy
Of course, there were some sad times
But they were far outnumbered
By just the simple pleasures we all experience
My life has been amazing!
Say bye-bye to these:
"Hold, please." (Hold what?)
Typewriter Repairman Ads
"Dial this number..." (What's 'dial?')
Down-time... Offline
Compliments (Complaint Departments have swallowed them up).
"Mail me your resume."
Shame, and its cousin, Guilt
Pay Phones and Phone Booths (Sorry, Superman)
Cash (esp. pennies)
"How do you do?" (How do I what?!)
"Chick," "Piece," "Stacked," "Hot Number"
The Debt Ceiling
Brown Suits
Brown Fedoras
White Bread
White Big-City Mayors (in the USA)
Math Facts
Grammar & Grammar Schools
Heroes
Good Samaritans
Public Drinking Fountains (except for dogs and cats)
All but Mega-Gigantic Hospitals
Modesty
Cash Bail
Drug Busts
'Land Lines'
Gasoline-fueled automobiles
Private Health Insurance
Private Doctors
Free Museums
Disturbing the Peace
Roth IRA's (at least, Roth IRA's whose distributions are tax-free)
Peacetime Economies
Gun Laws (The Wild West roars back)
Non-Mixed Use Zoning Laws
Fair Elections (Did we ever really have them?)
Ideals, Idealists, Idealism
The 'Renaissance Man'
Daily Newspapers, Print AND Digital
The 'Weather Channel'
META
Music Majors, Art Majors, Anthropology & Sociology Majors
Cooperation
Cashiers
Receptionists
Cleaning Services
'Straight People'
Teachers
'The Four Freedoms'
Courts (You'll get a ticket and either pay or go to jail...)
Courtroom Lawyers
'Law and Order' Politicians
Non-TV Ministers
Dentures
Non-union University Personnel
Non-gated upper middle class and upper class housing
Neighborhood Watch Groups
Public Schools
Childhood
Non-government Day Care
Nursery School and Kindergarten
Free Public Libraries (You'll pay for those Drag Shows, lol!)
Free-TV
Non-Tip Services
'The Great American Novel'
The Home of the Brave -- Oops! (I mean, of the 'Guardians!')
'Lesbos' and 'Homos' (Can you believe we used those terms?!)
Marital Sex (What for?)
Foreplay (Now it's just "Fore! Here I cum!")
~ Roger Dodger, Over & Out!
This is a parable how so many on the highway to death
Following and fighting over material things
Caught up in this world following the crowd
We have Jesus on the other end with the self check out
Have you found your bargain
So many will camp out
To get a present on a deal
The lines will wrap around
The outside doors
When the door opens be careful
For they stampede in trying to enter
Many get injured if not fast or big enough
Everyone will get there gifts
They have been longing on
Then it's time to check out
And the lines are just as long
For we have called all the
Cashiers to the front and hired
All that would work for seasonal help
But the lines are just constantzc
My friend over to far right side
They have this new register
With not many seeing it
There is no waiting or lines over here
The problem is you will have
To check yourself out
But this register is much different
There will be one to turn on your light
To let others know you have
Now entered into a working progress
Place your hatred through here
And love will come through
Scan your envy and giving you receive
Keep working we ain't done yet
For this has to be done through
Each person that comes through this line
Have any questions about any barcodes
The answers for all are
Placed under the light
Only problem is if you
choose this line
Before you are able to go
Through the door to receive your gift
Your old self will have to remain in the store
And the new creation and living being
Shall have a chapparone
That will open the door to everlasting life
Love you all ,
If you are reading I will not give up on you. Love ya
This is a parable my friends I do not fight the crowds
Broad is the highway to death, few on the path to life
i wish i didn’t* but
i have to get across town
so off i go taking the bus
that drives through a nasty ghetto
i’m shocked as i look out the window
to see several dismal characters
i can’t imagine the misfortunes
that has brought them there
they’re low, they’re high
or maybe that's just their life
being low in between their high
houses so run down
they look like crackhouses to me
windows loosely boarded up
properties with signs for sale ~ as if !!
meanwhile i can't help
but notice that i'm the only
caucasian on the bus
i take the time to notice people in their uniforms
orderlies, cashiers, dishwashers, students
in their eyes bound determination to get ahead
and not land in this foresaken ghetto
and then we turn around a corner
back to the realm of civilization
like having crawled out of a deep hole
no wall no fence
just an imaginary line
that we dare cross at our own peril
doggedly holding our breath
cautious that the pit won't engulf us
* I'm on my way to a doctor's appointment that I'm dreading.
P.S. I feel it's important to mention that I live in Canada where we don't really use the term 'ghetto', and up here these quarters attract substance abusers.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
No exception, we grab a cart
A slice of this geography
A part of this society. Among the lines of people shopping,
talking, grazing, cell phones buzzing
cashiers checking, shoppers queuing,
wheels are churning
cards are scanning,
as we chew on something new.
Looking for the latest deal. Should we try it? Should be buy it?
The great appeal of mindless thrill
I am shopping, child in tow
Buying dog food, fifty pounds
Then, to the car with chirping sounds
from this child (she is my grand)
who now observes a woman, pale,
with a skinny hound,
sheltered near the parking lot.
A homeless woman, I'm confounded
how to help this hungry soul
_
This sweet grandchild is more endowed
to take a stand for that old hound
She's convinced to do some good
And so you know...
back in we go, where we once stood,
standing in the check-out line
We're in the store for more dog-food
A bag we buy, perhaps a few
We add some goods, a thing or two
This child with me is so astute
pointing to those gift cards too
to feed them both, as well we should
Approaching, we are taking care
to let her think it's for the dog
But in the bag, we left our hearts, we left a smile
The one we kept will last awhile
__________________________________________________________
True Story:
2/9/17
Contest: Random Acts Of Kindness
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
22
to all the presidents, of clubs
Or companies,
to all the principals of technological high school,
to all the market cashiers,
Who want to make you disappear,
to all the news journalists
Who speak without loving us,
to all the champions, the Olympic medalists,
to all javelin throwers,
to all university professors,
Doctors in law, in nuclear physics,
to all grain producers,
To the chocolate masters,
To the cabaret dancers,
to all pizza eaters,
To Brest, to Toulouse,
to all window cleaners,
To the excellent comedians, Debbouze, or Gad Elmaleh,
to all the conductors,
To the dentists who perform,
to all the Sioux chiefs, or Apaches
to all medical researchers,
In their laboratories,
to all the Nobel Prize winners,
From literature or chemistry,
to all jazz musicians,
to all talented artists,
To opera singers, to blues ones too,,
to all the cultured Parisians,
To the abandoned drag queens,
to all the indiscreet pastry chefs,
To sleeping grandfathers,
To the fish merchants, the hunters,
to all the poets of France,
To the deployed cartomancers,
to all students and high school students,
to you, who read this incongruous list,
finally this poem is ending, you might say,
Yes, the world will continue without you,
Think about it more often.