The usual checkers have checked out and clearly
Gone off to unfamiliar places:
The B-team staff ringing up groceries have blank
Expressions all over their faces.
The vast majority of aisles are grimly roped off
And you now cannot help but gape
At how they’re emblazoned with what looks like
Black and yellow crime scene tape.
What remains are their worst-selling products:
Power drinks whose only notoriety
Is coming in an assortment of flavors that dare
To defy any sense of propriety.
In addition to everything you want having vanished,
You look around to see
That whatever is still out on the store’s shelves is not
Where it used to be.
This woman with four young children enters
With a wild look in her eyes.
She turns her head slowly, no doubt swept up
In utter, absolute surprise.
She managed to walk into the building having
Found a way to ignore
A dozen large banners and signs announcing
The closing of the store
And in so doing, she proved once and for all
Wherever you may go
That someone somewhere is always destined
To be the last to know.