He carried a
two litre bottle
of the cheapest cider,
Semi-hidden
under a tattered coat lapel,
So desperately,
That
It looked as if
He was shielding
The heart of lover,
Too heavy to bear.
And he made for the exit
Like
it was salvation.
The cashier just looked on
And thought
To himself, with pity-
How the bad goes
With the bad.