There is something
very secure
about this supermarket
I'm in love with it
I feel at home
No one minds
my humming carols
sampling the grapes
smelling the melons
Must be the hat
I should write to
thank Mr Kipling
for the pies
Santa /God
for granting me the weather
I asked for
I hardly ever ask for anything
Never for anything big
Maybe I am being rewarded for
that
Wonder why the herbs
get so wet sweating into
the cellophane
Will make my own sausages
in future
Where will I buy sausage skins
Maybe I will become the next
sausage Queen
No
The exposure would kill me
Interviews photo shoots
No
I can't do it
If I got married
I would have to keep eggs
under the bed for weeks
Rotten ceremonial eggs
Cannot cross the cultural chasm
Chicken head blood spurts
Teeth filing
Spitting on the ground
Priest throwing holy water in my face
I'm not drinking it
Having to dye my hair black
being submissive and serene
No
Absolutely not
Never
Ever
Someone said I had nice earrings
there is something to be said for nice earrings....sausage queen, probably not a great title to hold...ha...the ceremonial eggs under the bed, i need to look that one up...interesting to walk through your mind at the market...
ReplyDeleteThanks Brian..As I am not privy to anyone else's thoughts I have always thought that mine are fairly normal....I could be wrong:)LOL
ReplyDeleteminds are strange things. well done for catching all the pieces of the journey. it flows well.
ReplyDeleteYep..especially mine:) Thanks lucychili.
ReplyDelete