Write your supermarket a poem

Out of the night that covers me,
Bored as the pit from aisle to aisle,
I thank whatever gods may be
For your unconquerable style.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried of rent.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My cash is ready, but unspent.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the thread,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me by the bread.

It matters not how high the price,
How charged with punishments the tag,
I am the master of my slice,
I am the captain of my bag.


I’m actually well pleased with this

Thank you Sainsburys
You take away the painsburys
My love for you will never wanesburys
Your bread is wholegrainsburys
You sell fluid to unblock my drainsburys
My visit was not in vainsburys
Without you I would go insanesburys


Sainburys, Sainburys burning bright,
In Derry of a Friday Night
What immortal hand? Oh aye!
Probably lit by some wee Spides!

(A tribute to the Sainburys fire in Derry last summer)

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And—which is more—you’ll get nectar points, my son!


If you can fill the unforgiving basket
With 60 seconds worth of Capri Sun


Co-op on the corner
By the chippy and Chinese
I go there for my bread
And fresh milk for my teas
You’re tiny and expensive
So I use you for my bits
Also your security guard
Gets right on my tits


I like EuroSpar
And I cannot lie
You other brothers cant deny
The new deli counters tastes; chicken wrap in my face
You get sprung, want to pull up tough
'Cause you noticed that the tortilla was stuffed

They’re no longer open 24/7
So midnight’s right for public heaven

Yes let’s go alfresco
In the carpark of Tesco
We can start with some snogging
Before we get dogging

Co op, why are your aisles so thin?
And why do you never have pet food in?
Not even in a tin?