Ode To The Guy Who Bagged My Groceries Today

My bags are plastic, yes environmentally unsound
Judge not, thou chain smoking dolt with CO-belching Tercel,
‘Tis not for you to cast, oh stone so round
Yon dirty apron betrays the visage of one masquerading not to smell.
Yea, effort for order, eggs always on top
Separate bags for soup cans, bread to itself
Steps to be followed, verily, eye contact, not.
Random items trailing on ebony conveyor belt, longing for homes
To carry them home, home to my shelf.
Go gently, ye bagger, lone eye on the time clock
Break time is nigh, as is your next smoke
Vantage Ultra lights, coupled with PayDay bar in your smock
Sweet release, longing for Xbox, no broken yolks.