Whatever happenedto the Kmart waiters?
I could swear they
were once at our beck and call
at every blue light special
long before Martha Stewart
stormed in to class up the place
there were the Kmart waiters.
Now all that’s left
are the Walmart greeters.
Not nearly so classy,
though friendly, they’re still
not enough to gussy up
the union busters
or the sweatshop labor
no, they don’t have the pizzazz
of the Kmart waiters.
Somehow I felt better
about the Kmart waiters.
The above poem is a response to readwritepoem's 12th NaPoWriMo prompt. The prompt asked us to "Make up a secret code. Begin by writing a few nonsense sentences, like “The raindrops tap out a cry for help” or “The dandelions are saying all at once, ‘You are overwhelmed.’” My nonsense phrase was "Kmart waiters." Once, when I was dating Rick, he fell asleep in front of the TV, and woke up crying out: "What about the Kmart waiters?!" So, that's where I got my start for this poem. Beyond that, I'm not entirely sure what this poem is about, though I have some inklings...
Not having the inside track on Kmart or Walmart, your code is safe with me!
ReplyDeleteDerrick, I'm not too fond of either place, but I especially dislike Walmart. I'm glad my code is safe with you, because I'm not sure I could decode my own code.
ReplyDelete