Where The Lights Are Fluorescing
A poem about the sad mundanity of a discount store
Life’s more depressing
Where the lights are fluorescing
They beam a harsh light
On the walls painted white
There’s a young couple at the register, their clothes worn and tattered
If only they had someone, to let them know that they mattered
They’re buying the cheap diapers, today they’re on sale
With another five dollars off, using coupons from someone else’s mail
Scanning their items is a lady in her late sixties
Her old retirement fund reduced to mere pennies
An old man in the corner is perusing the playboys
While the broken light over him makes a staticky noise
Shirts from 2010 litter the racks
While back to school shelves offer Kevlar backpacks
A crying little kid gets smacked on the wrist
For grabbing something that wasn’t on mommy’s grocery list
It’s my turn at the register, with the woman gone grey
I quickly grab my bags, and as I head out, I hear; “Have a nice day.”
