The Shopping Trolley

Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com
The Shopping Trolley

Squeaky wheeled, the shopping cart
Ferries goodies round the mart.
In its ever changing hold
Lie lost secrets, never told.

Errant husbands in a hurry
Farmer types who smell of slurry
Secret Santas for the office
Squabbling kids who fight for toffees.

Fussy sorts, the feely-touchers
Veggies who avoid the butchers
Grimy toddlers, babes in nappies
O.A.P's and cheeky chappies.

Lover boys with cheapskate flowers
Lonely folk who pass the hours
Chatting with the clientele
Shopping till that final bell.

Thieves with no intent to pay
Drunken louts who start affrays
Married couples, taking huff
Pin striped suits, and working scruffs.

Diets won and diets lost
Thrifty ones, who count the cost
Of each item as they pick it
Mentally arithmetic it. 

Coupon warriors, voucher wavers
Flashy spendthrifts, super savers.
You've seen the lot, know all our tricks
So, can't you get that damn wheel fixed!

O.A.P Old age pensioner in UK, senior citizen.

26 Comments on “The Shopping Trolley

  1. Oh but you’d pay for drunken louts who start affrays! πŸ˜‰ Great poem, Hobbo! Those bloody shopping trolley wheels. When you pick a bad one, it can really ruin the whole shopping experience. If you get a good one, you can glide through humming to all the happy pop music in your own little shopping bubble. But get a bad one and it’s like holding a heavy pontoon from tipping off a waterfall, trying to get down those aisles without hitting anything.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. love this, Don: reckon you’ve covered all bases — and , of course, in all shopping trolley poems, one must always conclude with that bothersome wonky wheel; well done πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Delightful, sir. Per your advice, coffee beyond reach for the duration. Good advice. Like to let you “push a wobbler” stateside. You’d be impressed, I think, with the meanness of the clientele. Thank you for this wake-up read.

    Liked by 1 person

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