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dggggggggggy
We Have Everything!
We Have Everything!
It's morning shift at Safeways, home of the plastic fern
Dave's flown in from Baltimore and thinks it is his turn
To flog this ship with his mighty whip and stop it from capsizing
There's a big hole now in Frozen Fish, cos John's gone deep-sea diving
So Angel's pulled from Floral, it's enough to drive you crazy
For wilting Frank can't work with plants, and a doctor's note that says it
And then to make sad matters worse five Mexicans call in sick
They're off to march for workers' rights, but how's that gonna fix
Our problems with the cooler, and the rich from getting rich?
It's not the time to fight for rights, when badly we do need 'em
says Sue the brown-nosed checker, can't their church just feed 'em?
Sweet Amy dreams in Coffee, wears boots and is a painter
Sketches sketchy locals in chalks upon the pavement
Arranges 19 coffee-cups into a global statement
Used to wear black lipstick, still don't know what that meant
Fiona at the register is Norman Bates in drag
She hides behind her glasses, and a cool Adidas bag
And she doesn't like it when Trampo Steve refers to her as dad
As he slides another love-note onto sad Maria's chair
But it's not in Serbo-Croat, and she really doesn't care
That Angel's lost her eye-shadow, and that Luna's lost her fans
She used to work at Merrill Lynch, good money in her hands
Once voted high-school beauty, now rots in also-rans
Sticking half-price labels onto dented sell-by cans
Then Charlene Crystal shatters, wet tears on aisle 9
When Pete strolls by with Angel, as if she were his bride
But it's only to the mess-room, to swop some DVRs
For they share a love for wrestling and 1950s cars
Pete with 15 years in Meat has left his boat at home
He loves slasher movies, especially when he's stoned
He says, I'll see you later, but he would like to bone
Sue Woo Loo from Kiosk, it thrills him when she phones
Her mom in Beijing every day, fearing the unknown
Sue Woo is at the gas-station to buy a single rose
A year's supply of Playgirl and a gallon of No-Doze
She almost hit another car whilst reading On The Road
Bu her mind must stay on red alert as the Lotto scandal grows
But first she calls Fiona to secure a friendly ride
For Fred who's not returned to work since his great-great-goldfish died
Which is hardly fair on Simon, who's new and can't deliver
Enough soggy chickens for the deli-boys to sliver
But the news Fiona gives to Sue is sure to make you quiver
Her husband says, and this is grave, but surely he does reckon
Un-Homeland Insecurity has done a background check on
Said who works in Sandwiches, and Moe, our store detective!
But since they both are blonde and gay we reckon that's defective
Far more sense to dig in deep to the dumpster that disgusts us
For Fred has not been seen alive since the famous meatloaf rumpus
With Ric, the Swedish foreman, who drives an Astro van
Don't think of dreamy Abba think right of the Taliban
Tho he signed the card for Tony Dish, when he was sentenced to the can
For checkboook fraud and smashing doors, in a dark time of his life
He did get his job back, but not his pregnant wife
Who still comes in for coffee, and Amy loves those twins
She's done them both in oils and says that when she wins
The Lotto she'll adopt them, their mom and her are lovers
Both still think of Toe when they're hot beneath the covers
Plus Amy thinks of Crystal, and Crystal ponders Fred
Who always dreams of Angel who has Frank inside her head
At night the whole damn workforce is sleeping in one bed
Then it's morning-time and the hungry swine invade the busy store
With carts-full for the moneyed crew, and pockets for the poor
Then a sudden call for Tony, to wipe vomit from the floor
He says, "For Dave to clean it up, is that against the law?"
Then Fiona says that Brian says that Said says, then pause
another deadly feud's ensued behind the sliding doors!
Two refugees from New Orleons, and one has pulled a knife
Store-bacon brings his baton down as if they were his wife
And a tourist from Connecticut runs screaming for her life!
Then Fred who's not been seen for weeks strolls in and says, How strange
That two grown men should duke it out then call it Real Change!
Even grim Maria laughs, slow-fingering her note
Curious to what the handsome man in baggy trousers wrote
And when no-one's looking, she slips it in her coat
On aisle 9, by Crystal's tears, Mohammed's on the ground
Shouts, "Allah is Great!" Angel's eye-shadow's been found!
Miguel clocks in for half a shift, still planning to fall sick
But still can't fix the cooler, says he's strained both his wrists
And when Ric stares icily, he just rubs his crucifix
Dave the Slave from Baltimore is captain of this ship
But he's running to the bathroom and it isn't for a shit
His bong's inside the cistern and he's gonna take a hit
To help steer this sinking ship thru another 10-hour shift
Yuppies file these aisles for miles, yet they never will discern
From the bleary eyes and the mannered smiles, all the passions that do burn
Our workings and our playings we know they'll never learn
How completely half-assed customers are the least of our concerns
In high-life low-pay Safeways, home of the plastic fern
We don't get time for funerals, so we never get to grieve
We can't afford vacations, we look at photographs of trees
And if you want a pay rise, put padding on your knees
So everybody's quitting, but no-one really leaves
So if you can't find the chutney, sir, please don't look so stern
You can just drive out this lot and make a sudden turn
But we are here for many years, and every day we learn
What it is to love and laugh, in the land of the plastic fern
x
m
c
Dave's flown in from Baltimore and thinks it is his turn
To flog this ship with his mighty whip and stop it from capsizing
There's a big hole now in Frozen Fish, cos John's gone deep-sea diving
So Angel's pulled from Floral, it's enough to drive you crazy
For wilting Frank can't work with plants, and a doctor's note that says it
And then to make sad matters worse five Mexicans call in sick
They're off to march for workers' rights, but how's that gonna fix
Our problems with the cooler, and the rich from getting rich?
It's not the time to fight for rights, when badly we do need 'em
says Sue the brown-nosed checker, can't their church just feed 'em?
Sweet Amy dreams in Coffee, wears boots and is a painter
Sketches sketchy locals in chalks upon the pavement
Arranges 19 coffee-cups into a global statement
Used to wear black lipstick, still don't know what that meant
Fiona at the register is Norman Bates in drag
She hides behind her glasses, and a cool Adidas bag
And she doesn't like it when Trampo Steve refers to her as dad
As he slides another love-note onto sad Maria's chair
But it's not in Serbo-Croat, and she really doesn't care
That Angel's lost her eye-shadow, and that Luna's lost her fans
She used to work at Merrill Lynch, good money in her hands
Once voted high-school beauty, now rots in also-rans
Sticking half-price labels onto dented sell-by cans
Then Charlene Crystal shatters, wet tears on aisle 9
When Pete strolls by with Angel, as if she were his bride
But it's only to the mess-room, to swop some DVRs
For they share a love for wrestling and 1950s cars
Pete with 15 years in Meat has left his boat at home
He loves slasher movies, especially when he's stoned
He says, I'll see you later, but he would like to bone
Sue Woo Loo from Kiosk, it thrills him when she phones
Her mom in Beijing every day, fearing the unknown
Sue Woo is at the gas-station to buy a single rose
A year's supply of Playgirl and a gallon of No-Doze
She almost hit another car whilst reading On The Road
Bu her mind must stay on red alert as the Lotto scandal grows
But first she calls Fiona to secure a friendly ride
For Fred who's not returned to work since his great-great-goldfish died
Which is hardly fair on Simon, who's new and can't deliver
Enough soggy chickens for the deli-boys to sliver
But the news Fiona gives to Sue is sure to make you quiver
Her husband says, and this is grave, but surely he does reckon
Un-Homeland Insecurity has done a background check on
Said who works in Sandwiches, and Moe, our store detective!
But since they both are blonde and gay we reckon that's defective
Far more sense to dig in deep to the dumpster that disgusts us
For Fred has not been seen alive since the famous meatloaf rumpus
With Ric, the Swedish foreman, who drives an Astro van
Don't think of dreamy Abba think right of the Taliban
Tho he signed the card for Tony Dish, when he was sentenced to the can
For checkboook fraud and smashing doors, in a dark time of his life
He did get his job back, but not his pregnant wife
Who still comes in for coffee, and Amy loves those twins
She's done them both in oils and says that when she wins
The Lotto she'll adopt them, their mom and her are lovers
Both still think of Toe when they're hot beneath the covers
Plus Amy thinks of Crystal, and Crystal ponders Fred
Who always dreams of Angel who has Frank inside her head
At night the whole damn workforce is sleeping in one bed
Then it's morning-time and the hungry swine invade the busy store
With carts-full for the moneyed crew, and pockets for the poor
Then a sudden call for Tony, to wipe vomit from the floor
He says, "For Dave to clean it up, is that against the law?"
Then Fiona says that Brian says that Said says, then pause
another deadly feud's ensued behind the sliding doors!
Two refugees from New Orleons, and one has pulled a knife
Store-bacon brings his baton down as if they were his wife
And a tourist from Connecticut runs screaming for her life!
Then Fred who's not been seen for weeks strolls in and says, How strange
That two grown men should duke it out then call it Real Change!
Even grim Maria laughs, slow-fingering her note
Curious to what the handsome man in baggy trousers wrote
And when no-one's looking, she slips it in her coat
On aisle 9, by Crystal's tears, Mohammed's on the ground
Shouts, "Allah is Great!" Angel's eye-shadow's been found!
Miguel clocks in for half a shift, still planning to fall sick
But still can't fix the cooler, says he's strained both his wrists
And when Ric stares icily, he just rubs his crucifix
Dave the Slave from Baltimore is captain of this ship
But he's running to the bathroom and it isn't for a shit
His bong's inside the cistern and he's gonna take a hit
To help steer this sinking ship thru another 10-hour shift
Yuppies file these aisles for miles, yet they never will discern
From the bleary eyes and the mannered smiles, all the passions that do burn
Our workings and our playings we know they'll never learn
How completely half-assed customers are the least of our concerns
In high-life low-pay Safeways, home of the plastic fern
We don't get time for funerals, so we never get to grieve
We can't afford vacations, we look at photographs of trees
And if you want a pay rise, put padding on your knees
So everybody's quitting, but no-one really leaves
So if you can't find the chutney, sir, please don't look so stern
You can just drive out this lot and make a sudden turn
But we are here for many years, and every day we learn
What it is to love and laugh, in the land of the plastic fern
x
m
c
6 comments:
Oh - like you're one to judge.
hey, some of my best friends used to work for a living.
anyhow, it's not finished yet!
have I ever let Moma down before?
Bravo Martin. You're best work yet!
I can't agree with that view myself!, because i feel it so failing in my aims, whereas my more 'regular' stuff is coming easier than ever. Perhaps you love the rhymes and the upbeatness, I love those things too, but rhymes like painter & statement are terible to my ears, (don't you think Bob Dylan would kill me for that?) and there's lots of it that i feel limps clumsily. I say everyone there is 'in bed together', but don't really convey it thru any weaving, intersecting intricacy of writing. I feel i've reached a point in my stuff when i kinda know how well i'm doing at certain aspects of it, and some folks may like it and some may not, and you do, and i take your comment as the most sincere and positive flattery!! But for great rhyming poetry I'd recommend you read Lewis Carroll, or Lear, and then I promise you'd see how pale and struggling this is!
No no dear man, it wasn't for the rhyming that I loved it. It was for the weaving and the imagery that is portrayed -- and the down to earth human element. It is also nice to see you write something coherent for a change (not that I don't love your surrealist stuff). I can see you stretching and that's very nice. Something everyone can understand AND relate to, I think. That's why I gave the high marks. Still your biggest fan... (me)
Ya know Martin, I really liked this. It wasn't for the rhyming like you suggested to Anna, but it was just so intriguing. It left me on the edge of my seat wanting to know what was to come next. I do agree with Anna how this is your best work yet. Yes, there are a few things which could be fixed up a bit, ain't going to lie there. I particularly liked the "great-great-goldfish" that made me laugh. Oh how I miss my goldfish. Keep up the good work Friend.
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