The automatic doors open,
You are swallowed like Jonah
In the belly of the whale
Only here, you get to pick the meat
Off the teeth in the jaws,
Grocery shopping in a cool space;
You shop according to colour,
Or you shop according to taste,
The cashier ask you to tap or insert;
Paper receipts shuffle out of the device,
The automatic doors open,
You are outside in the glaring sunlight,
With a plastic grocery bag,
Having left the ground floor of the building.
.© gillena cox 2024
BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH
