Shop ’til I Drop

Alternate title “Parcels United”

[Landscape view is recommended on a mobile device]

I unload semi trucks
filled with parcels
at night while many people sleep.
I wonder who is shopping local.
A wall of boxes filled with smiles.
I smile back and move them on their way.
Walls as big as an Amazon. Smiling.
Then another. And another.
Will it end? My smile fades.

Each box is a story.
A need.
A desire.

One box after another, each with a story
Marked fragile. Marked heavy.
Marked perishable. Marked hazardous.
All combined.
No one seems to read. But I do.
I read all night.

I pray for the person awaiting their donor.
I pray for boxes of poo. Shhh.
It a secret, but I know.
It doesn’t smile like the others but is marked “Exempt Human Specimen”
So many boxes going to the lab.
I pray for the person
The lives that might change.

Night after night. It seems the same.
But over time. Slowly.
So much has changed.
People prefer packages at their door.
Deliveries. Not other people.
A person interrupts. A box brings delight.

Each box has a story.
A need.
A desire.
Do you really need strawberry Poptarts tomorrow?
Is this an obsession or just because you’re Primed?

Each box has a story and I have mine.
I recognize logos
Brands I know well.
I used to market your product
But now
I just move it.
I smile. I cry. I wonder. Why?

Each box has a story.
A need.
A desire.
Did you order your sofa because it won’t fit in your Ferrari?

Your mattress is heavy, just so you know.
You might pull a muscle as you drag it from your doorstep.
It will take a few days to fluff.
Essential oils might fix that strain while you wait.
Your neighbor ordered twenty.

Two days after we acknowledge our blessings.
One day after the Friday that has turned black;
The shop local movement will be posted
On this app and that.
Support my business so my family can eat!
I want to buy tires from the guy down the street.
Cyber Monday arrives…
Man, that deal is sweet!
Now we decide with our head, not our heart.

Each box is a story.
A need.
A desire.
Stores called big boxes come.
Small shops become dark.

What have we come to?
Where are we going?
Let’s think with our hearts
When it comes to our money.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s