I tried to go shopping all by myself.

Choose my own stuff from those supermarket shelves.

I set off early to avoid the ‘push around’.

But the other early people are more pushy, and wear frowns.

I’m wearing shades,

the lights make my head ache.

I look like I’ve had a heavy night on the ale.

Unfortunately, I’m buying cheap beer to kill snails.

The man on the till looks worried – I’m out of breath.

He’s worked here for years and he’s never had a death.

To make things worse, I accuse the woman behind me of nicking my kitchen roll.

She’s got no sense of humour, a morning hunter-gatherer – she’s got no soul.

In the car park, people stare, they must be amazed.

Then turn, embarrassed- I bang my head on my car door – it’ll probably graze.

The death defying feat of unpacking my car.

I only nipped in for a few things, it’s as if I’ve run far.

I’ve spent all my energy; I’m all worn out.

I’ve only bought half of what I went for – I’ll have to do without.