sometimes when i
contemplate the art
of grocery shopping

i yearn for much simpler
days

when butter was just butter
and no one knew the harm
that it could do..

those days when you did n't
worry about milk
simply because it was
delivered in clinking glass
bottles right to your door

when you knew the butcher
who cut up the cow
and you knew that the pork
sausages came from the pig.

and when your mum
sent you to get the fish
she sent you with a clean
pottery dish

those day of yore
when fifty cents would
buy a coke some chips
a sherbet bomb and more.

but those day are long gone
and i must move on

so again when i shop
tommorrow
i will stand in front of the
twenty brands of margerine
spreads and butter
and endevour not to mutter
about the fact
that butter is still, just butter.