Costco

We join the swarming mob
like a hive of impatient insects
grabbing, clawing,
crawling over and over one another
piling up back-breaking hords of
store-racked, pre-packed
deliciousnesses.

Rack of lamb?
Faw!
Give me the whole bleeting sheep.

A 60lb sack of,
whatever,
just pile it on this endlessly revolving
gluttonous heap
before I swipe my credit card.

Waddle next to me
Help me shove our three carts towards the exit.
Hide behind our toppling piles and avert your eyes
lest ye be
distracted by the $9.99 XLarge with mushrooms.

And then
there you are
Mr. hot dog stand man
with your plumpous suductress
sirens wooing me to their bulging beefiness
on this
the 1st day of the rest of my
sluggish death.

Give us two for the road,
wheat rolls please.