The Grocery Store

I call it the "Black Hole"--
You enter and walk forever,
And you get the feeling
You won't get out--ever.

You look for what you need--
They're never where YOU'D put them,
You see employees working,
And you have to ask her or him.

The ads say they have everything--
But not always what you want,
You search and search,
And end up feeling tired and gaunt.

The lines at checkout can be long--
Only a few registers open,
You read the tabloids while you wait,
To see whose relationship has broken.

And then there is
The parking lot--
Whoever planned the layout,
Common sense they had not.

A few handicapped spaces
In front by the doors--
The rest around the building side,
And there's no entry door.

What handicapped person
Who has mobility problems--
Would want to walk around the building?
The planners should sit down with them.

The excursion finally finished,
Everything loaded to go home--
It all gets put away,
And so I end my tome.