In the supermarket airport There are arrivals every day. The departures in your trolley Come to you from far away.
Those brightly coloured vegetables Have sat around for days In what we’re told are such hygienic backroom bays. They’re obviously picked and packed by well paid sprites and elves! Then magically appear on your supermarket shelves.
Here every carrot is straight and clean And every lettuce crisply curled Then gassed in plastic packets That are filling up our world!
Take a glance inside your trolley And if what I say is true Then I guarantee the food within Has seen more of the world than you.
Like the picture on the packet Of your frozen ready meal The colour of this far flown food is great The taste experience, surreal.
Those ripe tomatoes in their reddest skins We should dye brown, to match their taste Those vivid orange carrots are a mystery of flavour- What a waste!
A plate of vibrant promising hue Can taste of packaging and glue.
The supermarket tells you you’re in clover But its goods have all the texture of an old pullover. Your supermarket says that it is catering for you But if you’re honest do you really think that’s true? If you don’t then there is something you can do.
At the supermarket airport All the money’s in departures So put that trolley back And just depart. If you're wanting to be vocal Then shop seasonal and local And hit these psuedo airports at their heart.