Cave Canem

He’s standing with a big hound dog face,

Looking sad,

As if his owner had told him he was a bad boy.

But this big man—-(six foot four!) is just stumped.

He’s standing in the grocery store.

Forlorn, he surveys all the various powders one can buy

To turn one’s cow’s milk into chocolate. 

Now he’s taken out his phone

And photographs the whole display.

He’s texting a pic of it to someone,

Presumably his wife, or mother.

It’s some woman because I hear her tone,

And she’s unhappy, too.

They’re suffering their success it seems.

But I’m caught wondering 

Why we have to mask so many things these days?

If we have to advertise and market so to sell so much,

Do we need someone to tell us

This is part of a scam?

Can we get our money back?

Or have we traded our dignity?

I rarely see joy on the face of a consumer,

Especially the kind of exuberance I see

On the faces of the fake users

Of these new and improved products

That I view on my TV.

Have we pooped in our own prosperity,

And someone has rubbed our noses in it?

I’m just wondering because 

I feel such empathy and sympathy for 

My fellow cynical shoppers at

The local grocery store.

-jenn