Did he pay by debit card so the purchases are directly attributable to him? But then he's drawn into the gross anonymity of consumerism. But someone knows his account was 'active.' Account -- give an account of yourself: the account or reckoning kept by the recording angel of your deeds on earth, the document by which you gain or lose in the life everlasting. But this is also so existential. Five ready meals for one. He is a widower or ex-army bachelor. Neatly folded -- again, tells you so much about him, a man of tidy habits. And the two days of the week when he doesn't have a ready meal?
The tone of the poem also reminds me of the Kipling verse about the five stout men who serve him -- 'what, who, why, where, which?'' -- his means of knowing the world. The ready meals is all the information this particular old man absorbs about his world. Oh this is sad, and there is so much in these beautifully honed lines.

compact and powerful image.

Six short lines - four verbs. Makes me think.
Poetry.

Wow loads of images from just six short lines. Less is definately more, I kep re-reading it and seeing more about this man and his life

By the way, it was great to meet you last night and put a face to the typing (and like I said I was really impressed by your performance too). Now I can hear your accent when I read your poems. :)

Your poems spark a HUGE lot of thoughts -- and, yes, I have a mind like a wotsit!

Hi Sophie. None of your lines HAVE to rhyme. There is poetry in just the name 'Goldilocks' for example. I try to absorb each word and stroke them. Like the character, 'Blowfelt' would with his Persian cat in the James Bond movies. When the words begin to purr, that's when I enjoy a piece of writing. Having read 'The Old man', I heard a purr.
Perfect.