the gourmet market

they've installed benches
and floor lamps
in the new gourmet market
down the street
to accommodate the readers
of labels.
unclogging the aisles for
the likes of you,
who just want a head
of lettuce, a block of
cheddar cheese, a half pound
of genoa salami and
a loaf of wonder bread.
you don't need the story
of meat, the sodium content,
or how much sugar is imbedded
in its swirl of fat.
you prefer not to read
the tale of the free
range chicken, his long
journey from the egg to death,
the Charles dickens like saga
that reveals the care
and tenderness
that went into growing
those hot house tomatoes.
you don't want a happy
checker either in a flowery shirt,
a big ginsberg beard,
winking and asking if you are
going to make a sandwich
later for dinner. you just want
out of their as soon as you can,
as soon as you locate
the pickles, finding
the sweet gherkins among
the other nineteen brands.