Barcode

 I am a barcode

sitting on a shelf built of broken dreams

side by side with the whitewashed cream

and the broken peas crusted green

all waiting to be scanned in

cans of broken produce, lumped in a bin

of cans turned cant's, of rusted tin

painted over to all look the same in

these perfect rows, these forced lines

obscuring a mess of unexploded mines

Reviews

[Travis Lawrence]

Cool grocery poem, it is rather absurd I've always thought to have so much food just stocked on the shelves. This poem has nice sounds, it's sweet to read aloud.

"of cans turned cant's, of rusted tin"
-- love the twist here, but the apostrophe goes after the n, "can'ts".

Have a nice day!