Shopping in Aldi today
We love it so much we want to stay
Where having so much fun
Shopping in Aldi today
With a smile on our faces
Where in right place
Aldi is where you should be
Spending your money here with me
And I love the taste of
Aldi's wine it's as nice as can be
It's even as nice as me so
Hand in hand we walk together
Me and my beautiful wife
Love shopping in Aldi and
We'll be together shopping
In Aldi forever..

Joyous rapture awoke sleeping animalistic giant:
carnal, feral, gonadal horniness in deed, when defiant

this primate crossed figurative
   paths with a stunning woman
older than a spring chicken freed
   via ma hen nah paws van
jealous (of casual suitors),
when I figuratively crossed urban
paths with delectable dame.

   This hedonistic mwm veritable tan
tin nab buell lay shun caged in rein
   mister experienced euphoric San
ta Claus gifted encounter merely
   approached a female stranger ran
king as absolutely beautiful asper
   Samson recounted Delilah, Qan

i.e. qualification assurance notification
   within this poetic blurb. Pan
dum money yum (does not come close)
   upon entering a nan
oh meter times a gazillion equals
   scope of super sized ALDI's, every man
woman, and child could be housed.

   This supermarket (anchored lan
did at one end of a string of bungle
   low slung businesses conveniently kan
struck ted adjacent to popular stores,
   which aligned buildings a haven come Jan
ewe weary, these newly constructed
   bricks and mortal portals along Ian

eyesed, seen as primary corridor
   i.e. Ridge Pike (linkedin with Han
sill and Gretel recently rural gingerbread
   cookie cutter communities). Gan
a mead by Jove, said affordably priced
   food store noticed as a fan
tass tick location along the driver side
   heading towards Limerick, ean
at dark hours within Pennsylvania).

   This patron (me) of aforementioned Dan
dee nofrills modestly priced franchise
   espied an available card soon after Can
Nudda entered this outsize place
   to buy groceries. Another shopper (a bon ban
Joe plucky strung string apetite
   slip sans attractive gracefully aged gal) anan

entered said market seconds later,
   and dye motioned (to her) as she sigh
lent lee reached same idle sturdy cart,
   which ordinarily requires a quarter to pry
loose from a train of chained property.
   I unthinkingly, reflexively, and blithely my
deferred politesse she took possession of cart.

   Within instantaneous affirmation je
nais sais quais consent given for her
   to load groceries in sought after cart, this guy
noir got fast impression immediately formed,
   whereby visually this chic chica to die
for spurred enticement as very pleasing
   Halloween eye candy, hence desirable allie

madamoiselle in question totally tubularly
   unaware of lovelorn spate. Minutes before
tardy reaction (and perfect comeback
   ex post facto) momentarily preoccupied chore
viz reviewing mental check list, my intent
   to act with courage and acknowledge a door
quick to close.  Her (unbeknownst)
   attractiveness to me. Upon inadvertently
   froze me like Eeyore

glancing at thee beautiful doll female human,
   an aggregate of positivity arose. That four
tut hood toward slender youthful looking chica
   figuratively took my breath away. She galore
re: us lee ranked topnotch on my register
   of aesthetic delight. Thus, while this jackfrosted ****
frosted flake ambled up and down aisles,
   an aim sought to relay pleasant physiology while Igor
Stravinsky – Flight of the Bumblebee buzz

   within every square inch of my anatomy bon jour
quivered with cockiness, covetousness,
   and craveness without resorting to Dumble Da lore
for guidance, hence indecorous, impetuous,
   or idolatrousness loosed rampant as more
consideration asper jimmying bold, daring do
   hounded (Lo and Behold) luck did not ig nor.
A nod in answer to prayer ready set terrific
   wonderful chance arose pondering how to mine ore

and coax a major outcome addressing this ambition,
   which unceasingly pecked, piqued, dirt poor
**** lee  pricked thy noggin about sudden revelation
   presence pretty lady Upon quor
tar number of minutes passed,
   whereat her increasing proximity, an unflagging score
begging akin to patriotic duty and appeasement
   sans uttering a compliment recognized roar
ring optimal (once in a solar eclipse) chance
   to corral, field, and invoke latent obligation that tore
per regaling unknown xwoman a dollop gratutity.
   Whether embarassment ensued possibly war
temporarily shunted aside, cuz if no propensity
   to risk testing cab age comfort zones of yore

if awesome stroke ignored, a disappointment
   toward self would manifest irking conscience.
For the rest of eternity. So without missing
a beat (and reckoning with nary a spare off fence
guess not to turnip ma nose), a apple lick able amicus
   brief pickle this complimentary gents
dare devilishly egged, finessed, gambit regarding
   how gorgeous (a veritable stranger) kents
humed and appealed to me, whence squashing
   regret at a costly emotional ex pence.

Through the smoke, **** and *****,
A parking fine, ***** on it.
The most horrid sight, we’re used to it, right?
The capital’s disgusting and we’re ******.

Lengthy ques for employment,
Assorted drugs for enjoyment,
Our bank account’s bust, believe it we’re ******,
The government won’t even lend a hand.

Will it be Lidl or Aldi?
Wetherspoons, cheap and rowdy.
An overdraft to, purchase more *****,
Fracking makes us hate you more, it’s true.

Unpunctual trains, privatisation.
It’s ******* cold at the station.
Elite middle class, this country’s a farce,
Don’t even get me started on the EU.

Chicken wings and pollution,
Private health care – THAT’S THE SOLUTION!
Increased licence fees, no money for tea,
Five more years of Cameron and we’re *******.

Earthy mottled brown,
Pomme de terre
The humble spud,
When not covered in mud;
Chipped, boiled or mashed,
Steamed roasted or hashed.
First the Incas of Peru,
Used them in a stew.
Now the tubers grown in space,
To further the human race.
Chopin, Mozart, and Vivaldi,
Can all be bought at Aldi.
(Other supermarkets are available.)
(More varieties are saleable.)
A versatile Maris Piper,
Couldn't be any riper,
When served perfectly baked.

    ©  Nick Strong 2014

Widnes aint much, but to me she’s sweet home,
Safe refuge from wherever I roam,
Many may claim that she’s ugly and ******,
But open your eyes, and she’s really quite pretty.

From down by the snig, to up to the Crown,
There’s pubs a plenty where sorrows can drown,
The Globe, The Coterie, now Pesto of course,
But to all us old locals, it’s still the Black Horse.

Town centre drunks, laugh while they rant,
Old ICI and their Paraquat plant,
An industrial past, its dirt and its grime,
A ***** old river, her sludge and her slime.

Of nature reserves, we have quite a few,
From out of our wastelands, something wonderful grew,
Wildlife thriving where once we dumped *******,
Now even the Mersey lives once more with fish.

The factory smells that insulted our noses,
Spike Island, proud host once to the Stone Roses,
Paul Simon himself, when loneliness found,
On one of our stations,  wrote Homeward Bound.

The Beatles once played our dear Queens Hall,
Derelict now, no more curtains to call,
We love our music live and loud,
We truly are a passionate crowd.

A sporty town, but leagues our game,
Tho’ recent years have been quite a shame,
Myler, Karalius, Davies, Offiah,
Crowned World champs, our status climbed higher.

Proud we cheered in old Naughton Park,
The cowsheds, cold, smelly and dark,
The glory days, they came and went,
Old fans speak in sad lament.

The whole town’s roads, my how they’ve changed,
Drivers sit there now, all deranged,
Confusing sets of roundabouts,
That lead us there, or thereabouts.

Morrisons, Aldi and now a Tesco,
Asda Halebank, well that had to go,
A curious accent, not manc or scouse,
Just hear us speak with Woolyback nouse.

W’s in words, like one, two, three, foewer,
And entering homes, through a front doewer,
It’s hard to explain in a few lines here,
But a few minutes in town, and all becomes clear.

Bowling, cinema and now an ice rink,
The town is recovering, back from the brink,
There’s Costa, Next, Boots and Wilkos,
Who else is coming, no one quite knows.

Widnes has changed in my 40 years,
But filled with hopes now instead of fears,
Change for the better? Let’s wait and see,
But no matter what, she’s still home to me.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2012

Aha - argh... oh my dog...
don't mind me muttering, eh?

Earlier today (May 5th, 2020),
I forget thee exact hour
found me utterly beside mice elf,
matter of fact even at this moment,
yours truly doth feel mad at himself
cuz Aldi's merchandise (mostly food)
needed to be restored to their proper shelf.

Upon further contemplation
me thought quite futile
and pointless to expend energy subsequently nill...
best swallow figurative bitter pill
and maximize opportunity to take quill

in an effort to salvage sanity lest poetaster
schrieks with voice noticeably shrill,
thus if curious to discover visa vis
motive poem got crafted read further if ye will.

Electronic Benefits Transfer (EBT) card, i.e.
formerly known as food stamps
I never secured into wallet for safe keeping,
mine minor ohm my dog oversight surged thru me
(as if charged with a bajillion amps),

said aforementioned revelation occurred
while standing in a long line at Aldi's
attested whereby other patrons stood
pipsqueaks in tandem with their gramps
which snaked all the way to "5th and Japip."

Pointless regarding yours truly,
ordinarily insightful and adept
(in short, a generic and garden variety
local ******) who schlepped
courtesy rubber express
(think shoe leather) - except
sneakers adorned little (mine) feet
thus imagine hypothetical inept

hobo or ***** his bindle
slung over shoulder
traversing countless miles,
cuz an odometer he (I) kept
indicated staggering and sprawling distance,
sometimes on all fours (faux pas) he crept
hence no way would exhausting effort
be made for nought.

Riches to rags summarizes bio in short
former spendthrift and prodigal son
with lip service paid toward quaffing port,
whence reduced to penury, a courtship wasted
mein kampf of pennilessness insync with sport
despite feted happy occasion,
I discreetly did cavort
unbridled shenanigans bedding young nymphs

entailed minimal effort,
when lavish catered affair slated to celebrate
one lovely slip of a lass,
she (no rookie) beguiled
stealthily intended marriage to abort,
nonetheless gaining handsome dowery
with quintessential private escort.

We both acquired deserved comeuppance
therefore allowing, enabling and providing
me opportunity to attend contra dance
by going stag
wowed by gamut of coeds

moost who with subtle nonverbal cues did entrance
oft times imagining traipsing across France
courtesans attending every private need
ah... so much for castles in the sky
invisibly concocted via
strong swooshing dominant arm with lance.

In reality scratching out what began as prime
motive to detail forgetting ebt card
intending poem to communicate
spending more',n dime
times one hundred

hemorrhaging checking account
as momentary lapse of reason with rhyme
as often occurs time and again
poem takes fabulous convolutions
squeezed like figurative lemon going from
ridiculous to the sublime.

need not worry,
microscopic one.

for that in the end,

you are like a pineapple.

before, people rented you out
as table centerpieces for parties

but now, you are 98¢
at the local Aldi's

Whit dat tight till - say
yes, aye wool thank ewe
mooch at least for today
hoof fully (this Joe kerr)
can easily bide his time weigh
beef **** rammy cows come home.

Meantime India interim
lemme clover - reaching
far out on dam moost precarious limb,
bot do nut inspect me tub bark prim
and proper, nor procrastinate for tim
marrow, cause spontaneous whim

will lose heft, no matter how inane
poetic palaver could by then
elude ding me noggin to explain
nebulous jibber jabber hokey folderol
even confusing to a Great Dane

a dog (of course)
man's/woman's beast friend,
not hounding visa vis discovering
you improperly verb (bait him)
bone a fied with noun (sense)

barking up wrong tree
dangling modifier as gerund
faux paws and inquisitive,
nonetheless countenance do lend
sincere cachet gnome hatter compared

to average superficial **** sapien
said former doggone creature just thru
****** expression can mend
"broken" heart and soul,
which rhyming tangent did send

yours truly off scent, asper initial trend
actually truth be told, no paw tickle har
matter, I sought to sink teeth into,
but let babbling stream of consciousness wend,

where petty full extemporaneous tooting
oh my didgeridoo, which initially scares
the dickens out gills of hooting
blowfish until they recognize

this bloke juiced pooting
air thru a long wooden tube, be yule
then their piousness piqued to pisces,
gather together as if attending school
always mindful to follow

the goldenfish rule
i.e. aldi tom not erring,
floundering, and getting
tricked, royally suckered, and

hooked becoming gruel
resulting within tummy higher
up the feeding chain,
survival of dragnets cruel.

fission expedition for
salmon to hope fillet
enjoys almost done hook,
line and sinker - hooray,
sans to steal mental energy,
and precious time may

king another reason to be
persnickety and every ray
zen to be guarded, when
wading in cyber seas tay
king precautions, once
I return from Uruguay.

At 4:03 PM on November first
two thousand and twenty,
the missus nsync with yours truly,
(an inimitable average Joe - cur -
biden his time at Royersford, Pennsylvania

LIDL food market)
unexpectedly witnessed cashier
manning checkout aisle number two
to experience technological glitch,
which checkout person patiently,
thru various and sundry attempts

tried to nab ghost in the machine
invariably found register
to display DECLINE
despite one after another
dogged trial and error
deliberately entering $25.79,

the balance remaining
after ALDI purchases rung up today
at 15:27 (military time),
said unnamed cashier
tried his darnedest
to troubleshoot snafu,

while yours truly nonchalantly reports
my superhuman xray vision,
easily observed undetected
immense cerebral activity
silently and soundlessly

appraising amazing faculty
boring him with mine
invisible telescopic quasi proboscis
vicariously discerning himself
he finally managed
to surmount (figuratively)

mind boggling daunting challenge
applying cumulative technical acumen
at long gave last mental
herculean heave **
to resolve quandary
(after much time elapsed)

subsequently I made mental note
to notify management
first thing in the morning
designating said individual
as (at the least) employee of week award.

Doors
Doors
Doors
What if ******….
Everything was a door. David is a door, Kalo is a door, I’m a door, the weather is a door, Aldi’s 75p pizza is a door. And what if all those doors are open all at the same time or, better yet, if you had no control over which doors are open or slammed shut at any given moment.
Your mind is just one big hectic corridor with spooky Escherian architecture and being creative is like playing a straining game of Twister down this twisty bit of brain fiber.
You can’t explore in one room for too long because another interesting door is flung open that you simply must enter. Moments pass and when you poke your head through the second door the prior one is already closed tight.
What if relationships were doors? Some of the rooms look very appealing but they're too big, too vast and too mysterious. You can’t wander through these rooms very far or the lights may go out and you lose your way or maybe the doors slam shut behind you and you can’t get out of the locked and lightless room.
What if you could manipulate the rooms in this corridor of madness? If two doors are so close to each other why not make a merger of equals? Collapse the **** thing in on itself and have each of them make way for the same large room. What if two rooms look remarkably similar but are too far apart in distance? Or right next to each other in distance but polar opposites in content? Who’s going to organize this place and how do you alphabetize every aspect of everything?
How do you make sure you don’t accidentally eat your own foot?

Rudolph fell off the wagon
Santa is trying to hold on
this is not the past or the future
this is now and Christmas has gone

Aldi has sold out of egg nog
the yuletide log has been put on the fire
the autumn statement has been read to the public,
I fear that things are looking quite dire.

the turkey was scoffed for Thanksgiving
the cupboard is open and bare
Rudolph has the right idea
just get ****** and you won't even care.