Two minutes silence in Safeway
We were stock still by the stock cubes.
The tannoy had thanked us in advance
for sharing their prayers. Someone down
by the fresh fruit was lifting an avocado
like a suicide grenade, into his pocket.
The trolley wheels were this way
and that way, the undercarriage fucked.
There were bayonets in the wet slabs
of lamb. A toddler was running, screaming
down the luminescent aisles.
Tanks rolled through the checkouts
and did not pay. By the frozen foods,
refugees read the small print with dullard
eyes. Broccoli spears. Rocket. Blades
of mace. Crackerbarrel.
The first wave rolled over the cereal,
and established a beach-head in household
goods. They took the jumbo foil,
the recycled body bags, pausing only to pick up
points on their loyalty cards.