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Odysseus needs a job he calls pima community college art department chairperson sends her his resume she does not respond after a week he catches her on phone she says he lacks proper credentials laughs to himself his whole life never worked lucrative or reputable position gets job working at thrift store wacky group of coworkers customers store frequently smells like public latrine job expires after 7 weeks he gets better paying job working at record exchange Odysseus always loved music everyday he learns new artist or band his coworkers are at least half his age they pester him about being slow on keyboard he never learned to type neither he nor his generation could have foreseen future would revolve around keyboard he plods on register keys people smile politely kids he works with fly fast making many keyboard mistakes November 29 2001 george harrison dies of cancer he is 58 years old Odysseus recognizes he is from past world different era of contrasting standards ‘80’s behavior is totally unbefitting let alone ‘60’s beliefs it is 2002 and one badly chosen word is sure to send someone flying off the handle he watches his language carefully co-workers mostly born in 1980’s grew up in 1990’s they live indifferent to hopelessness he struggles to bear none of them believe in higher power music is their religion he wonders what their visions concerns for humanity are? they seem addicted to consumption as if it is end in itself he questions what is hidden at root of their absorption? loneliness? despair? apathy? absence of vision? where is their rage against social conversion current administration? he warns them about homeland security act privacy infringement increased government secrecy power they shrug their shoulders why aren’t they looking for answers? why don’t they dissent? do they care where world is going? he realizes they will have to learn for themselves few coworkers read literature or know painters philosophy their passions are video games marijuana “star wars” most of them are extremely bright more informed than he often Odysseus needs to ask questions they know answers to right off the bat he is like winsome uncle who puts up with their unremitting teasing “hey you old hippie punk rocker get you fiber in today? stools looking a little loose! peace out old man” in peculiar way he finds enough belonging he so desperately needs they tell him stories about their friends *** addictions eating disorders futile deaths he is bowled over by how young they are to know such stuff job includes health insurance which is something he has not had since Dad was alive having some cash flowing in he buys laptop computer with high-speed connection cell phone trades in toyota for truck opens crate of writings he abandoned in ‘80’s begins to rewrite story sits blurry eyed in front of computer screen his motivation has always been to tell truth as he knows it he wonders what ramifications his labor will bring positive or negative results? he guesses his story will sound like children’s fable in stark brutality of distant future october 2002 3 week ****** spree terrorizes maryland virginia  district of columbia 10 people killed 3 critically wounded police believe white van responsible october 24 man and 17-year-old boy arrested in blue chevy caprice juvenile is shooter assailants linked to string of random murders including unsolved shooting of man at golf course in tucson Odysseus mentions incident at work speaks of prevailing terror madness in america co-workers kid tell him he is crazy “did you see a white van parked outside the store Odys?” they seem desensitized to increasing national atmosphere of anger panic or perhaps they are overwhelmed by weight trauma of modern life lie after lie prevailing  havoc slaughter make for dull numbness in world they know suicide is compelling option december 22nd 2002 joe strummer dies from heart failure at age 50 Odysseus’s eyes wet he adored the clash everything they stood for loved joe strummer and mescaleros he plays “global a go-go” over and over listens sings along with first track “johnny appleseed” march 2003 president bush launches attack against iraq united states seems drunk with “shock and awe” zealous blind patriotism many people politicians countries around globe question unproven line of reasoning saddam hussein possesses “weapons of mass destruction” Odysseus gripes “not another **** vietnam” record company allows employees to check out take home used product Odysseus stopped watching movies in 1980’s he has lots of catching up to do particularly likes “natural born killers” “american history x” “american ******” “fight club” “way of the gun” “******” “king of new york” “basquiat” “frida” “*******” “before night falls” “quills” “requiem for a dream” “vanilla sky” “boys don’t cry” “being john malkovich” “adaptation” “kids” “lost in translation” “25th hour” “28 days later” “monster” “city of god” “gangs of new york” “**** bill” list goes on perfect circle becomes his favorite band followed by tool lacuna coil my morning jacket brian jonestown massacre flaming lips dredg drive-by truckers dropkick murphys flogging mollies nofx stereophonics eels weakerthans centro-matic califone godspeed you black emperor magnetic fields fiery furnaces dresden dolls smog granddaddy calexico howie gelb sufjan stevens warren haynes dax riggs john vanderslice alejandro escovedo sean paul elephant man bjork p. j. harvey ani difranco aimee mann cat power sophie b. hawkins kathleen edwards mia doi todd kimya dawson regina spektor carina round neko case fiona apple nina nastasia beth gibbons mirah rasputina dr. dre talib kweli immortal technique murs slug atmosphere trick daddy eazy-e tricky list goes on october 21 2003 elliott smith commits suicide stabbing 2 wounds into his chest Odysseus thinks about music when jimi hendrix stood up at woodstock deconstructing national anthem on guitar it took courage when punk emerged with ugly screechy sounds attempting to divorce itself from melodious harmonies of 1970s complacent crosby stills nash  the dead kennedys and *** pistol did not pander to conventional commercial success what they performed were desperate gutsy songs trying to reclaim music rock’n’roll is no longer about inventing instead it imitates its glorious past hip-hop and rap come nearest to risking rebellion but are caught in gangsterism infantile self-adulation no longer does music offer vision of what is or could be instead it conjures looping escapism from hopelessness of modern life he continues working at record shop for several years store contains every genre of music cinema he grows weary of retail sales weary of higher-ups constantly changing rules dictating what to do head manager is manipulative drama queen thrives on crisis once in private admits stealing from company Odysseus nods not knowing what to say head manager works Odysseus hard keeps him down atmosphere of conspiracy betrayal hang at start of each day assistant manager routinely taunts berates bullies teases regularly calls Odysseus “dumb-****” or “****-up” other times laughs after goading Odysseus to flinch eventually bully backs off and they become friends retail pushes Odysseus to brink of misanthropy corporation requires all employees to exercise overt courteousness while serving a public of disrespectful gang bangers demanding “show me black market brotha lynch mac dre why ya godda keep dat **** behind da counter? dat’s ****** up hey old man i ain’t got all day” it always amazes him when shoplifter is caught with product stuffed down his pants thief blatantly states “i didn’t do it i don’t know how that got there” thanksgiving through christmas to new years is most swarming stressful he feels like automaton greeting customer scanning product looking at screen to see if price agrees with product typing money amount counting money into drawer counting money out handing change to customer handing customer product receipt next customer cockroach capitalism packs of masses line up in endless stream of needs stupid remarks job also involves trade appraising condition value resale probability of cds dvds video games tapes vhs vinyl news of  iraq war gets dismal mounting civilian casualties suicide bombers hostages beheadings beginning of 2004 reports of torture ****** psychological abuse **** ****** ****** of prisoners at abu ghraib prison guantanamo bay white house cover-ups denials growing insurgency increasing u.s. body count other costs he thinks about men and women who are so much braver than him then comes re-election and lavish republican parties parades cheney rumsfeld tom delay and whole regime smirk portentously on tv none of it makes sense anymore “we the people of the united states” what does it mean? the dreams and aspirations of his generation have long since faded away he is citizen of forgotten past current world is barbaric place he barely recognizes there are real pirates with machetes rocket launchers on the seas big drug corporations hiding harmful findings kidnapped children abandoned children crooked politicians corruption at every level of society horrifying stories daily ******* priests slave markets extreme heinous cruelties abruptly everyone is acknowledging society is worsening life is not the same he does not understand people and certainly does not understand america or the world he remembers when all could be so good modern existence has turned everything into madness what happened to lessons of history? it is as if Odysseus fell asleep and when he woke everything is changed he is mistaken about what he thinks he knows feels pity for people america pity disgust sorrow he misses his dog
Aa Harvey May 2018
Shoplifter


She is so selfish on the sea shore.
She steals for pleasure and nothing more.


She lives for adrenaline and cares for no-one but herself.
She says she cannot help it,
But she is a worthless human being swimming in her stolen wealth.


Dopamine protects her from any guilty feelings she may have.
She wants it, so she steals it and puts it in her bag.


I have no pity for her for she is just a thief.
She wants compassion and understanding,
But she cannot take these things from me.


She lives for the thrill of it.  She wants it so she takes it.
She is the dirt on society.  She is empty of feelings.
She has always stolen without thinking about the consequences;
Now she is sat in a jail cell with a new pair of bracelets,
And somebody has stolen her ear-rings.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Tru Baker Dec 2012
you have a hundred secret names & I am the world’s worst shoplifter. you know what I mean? it’s like it’s 1992 & we’re so happy for cigarettes & de la soul & lightning bugs & **** like that. sometimes I wish you knew someone exactly like me who wasn’t so obsessed with your freckles. they make me hurt like alligator teeth. I want you to be all fists & bruises like tiny sparrows on my face. I want you to be a handgun muzzled into my gut.
John F McCullagh Feb 2015
In Atlanta Victoria is red faced, her secret a secret no more.
A shoplifter made off with her *******, merchandise worth an eye catching score.
How one shopper could nab all those garments- it simply beggars belief!
Her “Angels” will now go “commando” Unless someone fingers the thief.
The crook was observed on surveillance with stuffed shopping bags leaving the store.
She didn’t get Victoria’s miracle bras so police think she’ll come back for more.
This sort of heist has happened before, although, thankfully, it is still rare.
The shoplifter may be a black woman, but its certain that she has a pair.
A Victoria's Secret in Atlanta is out some $10,000 in merchandise
kfaye Oct 2016
The
weight of the world sitting dumbly on
those fructose eyelids.

They, in turn.      melt into the mummified  
morning.

laying in the corner forever like a
favorite-shirt
ruined in the wash.
Every other stripe on you is stained pink
from
some cheap volunteer tee that ******              up
The whole load.

Each ray from the blinds
Takes some life away.


Searing past you- into the floorboards
with
quiet fury.

Time passes_
It shoves us down into compact spaces.
(but)
I thought of you
In a shoplifter's prayer.

(There is something left that evaporates out in the form of you)

I imagined you
Still.
But growing
Like
Crystal salts
Crusting up the pores of the earth.

Vapors fumbling upwards to rehydrate
My dry fingers_


We make decisions . that stick around.

We break off blisters. Rip little things that hang off our lips.
We take breaks before we need them.
Take too long to say
**** this.

Thoughtlessness.



Somewhere out there, they are screaming loud.

Somebody either cares or
Doesn't.



The marks on the carpet know better than
us
How to last forever
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Behind your back, my love, my sweet cheat,
My mind, a wily bandit, in phases
Plan a series of thefts, culminating in a heist.
The shoplifter mind wants to steal a kiss quick,
"Take her heart, hold it to ransom"
My psyche, the robber, demands,
*Your soul in this heist, will be the captive-
Ultimate of  my pining  wounded soul.
*** for tat..in a time love has become a bitter game of chess..
Harmony Sapphire Feb 2015
Don't cross the street until the light is green.
Hold hands at the crosswalks & parking lot.
Keep poison out of reach of children.
Don't cuss or swear.
Don't smoke or drink.
Don't speed above the speed limit.
Don't lend out cash.
Don't get conned.
Don't drink alcohol & drive.
Don't do drugs.
Don't sell *** for money.
Don't take bribes.
Don't get blackmailed.
Don't play with fire.
Don't use explosives or firearms.
Don't vandalize.
Don't be a ******, stripper, ****, drug dealer, bank robber, killer, ******, carjacker, kidnapper, or shoplifter.
Wear your seat belt.
Check your motor oil & fluids.
Drive on a full tank of gas.
Clean your windshield.
Flush the toilet.
Brush your teeth & hair.
Never use electrical things near water.
Never lie.
Never hire an attorney for anything.
Never sign a stripper contract.
Don't dance naked for money.
Use mouthwash.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved
Kewayne Wadley Dec 2016
I was goofy in love,
That sort of sarcastic your ugly but I need you type of love.
That lounge around in underwear all day not afraid to be myself love.
In all seriousness, I wore nothing but her.
Smothering my nose in her hair. More commonly a set of areolas.
She was a character, sometimes rambling through my t-shirts.
Sliding her arms through loose hanging sleeves.
Pushing all of her hair to one side of her head, making silly faces.
Actually quite a scary thing to see, At that moment I prayed to God thanking him that she had a full head of hair. Although admitting that her left eye looking at the right one was kind of ****. Especially with her tongue cocked to the side.
A smile ofter kept me out of trouble.
Although admittedly I'd avoid certain questions,
She was that big head pretty girl whom believed she was always right, even when she was wrong.
I loved telling her no.
Even when I meant yes. The first time was an accident. The next twelve hundred just became habit.
The concept really wasn't as vague as it sounds.
Honestly, I am a good guy.
I just loved dancing on her nerves from time to time.
The crinkles that formed around her nose as she turned red.
Especially in public, I'd always tell the cashier or waitress that she was abusive.
Often locking me in the closet.
That I was her *** slave and this would be the only time she'd let me leave the house. That she held me hostage, to only refer to her as mistress when we're out and about.
Either that or I'd push her on random isles of a store and yell shoplifter.
It was always something crazy with us.
Grabbing a foam sword and constantly poke her in the *** until ultimately she'd just stop walking.
Other women felt her pain.
Laughing before revealing intriguing conversations about their men and how they would always leave them at home.
Michael Hunter Dec 2012
When I was three, I was a criminal.
I was a shoplifter and a thief.
I would crawl out of a window with broken glass in the pane, and run the streets.

At three.

I was a runaway and a rebel.
I loved car lots and the grease-covered back doors of local cafes and diners.
I would pocket a roll of Necco Wafers faster than you could blink,
Then hide inside used cars to sleep off the sugar coma.

At three.

When I was three, I was a mean little thief in stylish red cowboy boots.


© 2012 Michael Hunter
Ryan O'Leary May 2019
On the poster, outside Aldi, it
states that the O'Byrnes family
saved 347 Euros this month.

What was not mentioned, is,
Mrs O'Byrne who is known
to the Police, is a seasoned
shoplifter, she has been banned
from Dunne's Stores, Tesco and
more recently, at Lidl on The Park.

A Spokesperson for Aldi has
acknowledged that The O’Byrnes
were actually caught in the act
with 347 Euros of product, but
rather than prosecute, they opted
for the benefits from advertising.

The O’Byrnes have moved their
operation and are now shopping
a Dan O’Mahony’s riverside store.

I met them there yesterday.
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Supermarket tripping
Nuts & Dried Fruits
the Ethnic Aisle
How do they get away with saying that?
perplexed
shoplifter shackled
on display, as if a warning
Seven Box Sale
of Broccoli Au Gratin Rice
Why seven?

"Pickled Beets Tormented"
an undiscovered Jackson *******
smashed glass and splattered pink
on speckled linoleum
with infused grime
from 1956

Art is splashing everywhere
large scale proportional
and messy little mix-ups

Rancor is now spreadable product
it's right next to the sarcasm
found in the Fear Aisle
feel the chills
frozen food fraternizing
with my canned goods

Was that flattery or flouting?
from Deli Counter
take three numbers from ticket dispenser
I pocket two
call for, "78"
"78 - 78"
"79 - 79 - 79, does someone have 79?"
I stay silent
"80 - 80 Is someone holding ticket 80?"

Chanel suited business woman
at my side
tapping stiletto
upper lip curled
eyes periscope about
She spots my ticket
blurting, "You have 80, Fella"
her index finger flickers
in time with toe tapping

My line: "Oh I thought that was 08"
there's a huge "HUFF"
as she wheelies cart away
Rudy, from behind counter, winks
We've been collaborating art for years
Some folks are in such a hurry. Some of us like spice and curry.
I'm a fast talker, amazing lover
Poor loser, kiss stealer
Shoplifter, job quitter
Impulsive as hell, can't concentrate for ****

Mood swings and insomnia
Try some Lithium you'll fell better
Tremors in my hands, can't get my **** up
Stomach pains, dizzy as ****

Depakote this should work
Double vision, hair is falling out
Uncoordinated, moody *** *****

Tegretol
Saphris
Abilify
Kapvay, so much more but my mind is sore

I'm on top off the world I have it all
I'm perfect look at me
I'm going to become a famous poet, no a famous actor,
no a famous director

I'm useless,  ugly, fat unspecified
Nobody cares about me anyway

Look at me I 'm beautiful
I feel great today
Let's paint the living room its only 3 am
Live it
Ryan O'Leary Jun 2018
I can't say that it gave
         me hours of pleasure
        because I put it down
       after the second poem.

    Then I read the accolades
   at the back and discovered
   that people are prepared to
write anything just to get their
             names in print.

  I'm glad I didn't buy that book.
Skyler M Jan 2018
I can see the stars,
Flying overhead,
There must be something that I can say,
To get myself to come to life and fall into the sky,
But the cement at my feet has held me there,together,
There’s nothing I can do,
But watch the stars become rockets as they fly overhead,
They like to breach my personality,
Cause I know I’m not right,
I already fight with myself every day of my week.

Could I make it?
Could I be a shapeshifter?
Could I fake it?
Could I be a shoplifter?
I don’t think so.

My deadened and black dreams like to come back to life and taunt me in my nightmares,
The sea seems so far as the I’m plagued with my fears,
Don’t doubt for a moment that I won’t make it there,
My life is just as empty as the next guy ahead,
Who’s made to the sea,
But he falls off the cliff,
I know my fate at last,
As I fall into the salty rocks below.

Could I make it?
Could I be a shapeshifter?
Could I fake it?
Could I be a shoplifter?
I don’t think so.

Could I make it?
Could I be a demon?
Could I fake it?
Could I be a sermon?
I don’t think so.
I know that so.
I don’t think so.
I know that so.
Sara Reilly Feb 2016
call me thief
i confess
beg forgiveness
but deserve no
redemption
because
i know
my life consists of
stolen objects
omitted truths
little white lies
paper trails
giving up
my secret reign of
Getting Away With It
my doctors tell me
i have a problem
impulses need to be curbed
behaviors halted
there is no cure
for my particular
ailment
my disease
is pathological
socially unacceptable
and hardwired
all i have to do,
they prescribe,
is stop
easy
like stop thinking
stop moving
stop remembering
stop feeling
they say:
just ask permission.
at 30 years old
i still have to ask permission
because i never learned how
apparently
nobody cares
that on the couch
it all makes sense
5 year old shoplifter
turned teenage klepto
turned scavenger of all opportunities
stealing is stealing
is stealing
thief is thief is thief
age, circumstances, chemistry:
excuses.
when i give in
to get what i want
people get hurt
nothing i can do
nothing i can say
will solve
this equation of shame
surprisingly
my prognosis is fine
just dont do it again
so i am resigned
the thing about done, however
is that it remains done, forever
too little too late, says i
my sentence
the bottom line
marred conscience
reputation maligned
while im not doing what i did
to reverse my integrity
i am just devastated
justly
in the meantime
Diane Apr 2021
The pigeons and bunnies come close to me now
I am rewarded for my perseverance
I know what I know
Panic must not accost my knowledge
Like a shoplifter
with arms
full of *******
at Victoria’s Secret
The greatest impact I possess
Is understanding
wrapped  in a warm blanket
croob Apr 2018
a baby's foot
mom's womb

the soccer ball
the shoe

store owner staring
at shoplifter

a *******
his wife

it kicks
in

— The End —