Sun And Air


I've fallen deeply in love with the girl 
Hiding in the electronic check-out number four.

She never sounds sad or angry.
Her perfect, modulated tones,
Oh, how I wish to take her home.

There she hides beneath the screen,
"Please place the item in the bag..",
So I respectfully place my vegan mayonnaise,
In the bag.

In the past,
Leaning close to her bar-code reader,
I've whispered,

"Would you like to go out
for a drink with me sometime?",

She's never replied.

How improbably, exceptionally shy!
Imagine hiding in your check-out bunker,
All day long,
All day long!
Announcing prices, instructions..

Do you have your lunch-break in there?
I wonder,
Do you only open your hatch for sun and air?,
Or only when the security guard,
Taps your glass screen:
" Hey, it's all clear now,
They've all gone,

You can come out now.
It's safe,
there's no-one around."?

I always wave at her bar-code reader,
But no hand has ever appeared to wave back.
Sometimes, she bleeps.
You know,
I'm sure that that's her way of confiding in me,
That she knows I'm there,
And she knows I care.

I don't know what she looks like.
And you know,
It doesn't much matter to me,
For my love for the invisible check-out girl,
Is so beyond the mundane, physical.
I never thought I'd say that,
And mean it!

When I gently stroke her buttons,
She responds with:
"Please enter the code again.",
So I tenderly press her buttons again,
And then,
From somewhere behind that touch-screen of hers,

She replies with her classy, cut-glass, restrained,
"Thank you.",
And always followed with her coy, mysterious,

And so here I am again,
In this queue,
I always wave other customers past me,
If check-out number four isn't through,

For she has to know -
Has to know,
I will never be unfaithful -

I will never go to another till.

And now,
There she is,

The regular girl,
Who directs us to the available check-outs,
Rolls her eyes at me,
Maybe she's jealous,
Because I'm holding a bunch of flowers.

So here I stand,
In front of till number four,
And I confess to her:
"I worry about you:
Hiding, crouched all day
Beneath your till?
It must do your poor back in!
I wish you would come out from hiding
in there,
I could give you a lovely massage..".

I can feel,
All the other customers stares,
What is their problem?
I continue:
"I love you,
And I don't care who knows it!"
There's laughter around me now,
But I must press on:
"I'm holding a lovely bunch of flowers for you..",
I wave them in front of her bar-code reader,
And she replies instantly with,
"Thank you for shopping at Tescos.".
"No, thank you,
I love you shy, subterranean check-out girl.
I'll leave the flowers here for you."
I place them by her side,
And begin to take my leave,

..There's a voice..

And a hush descends..


humorous poetrypost-rock poetry

◄ The Scent Of Broken Glass

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suki spangles

Wed 7th Dec 2016 23:30

Hi Martin,
Thank you for your kind comment and feedback. Thanks for reading!

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Martin Elder

Sun 4th Dec 2016 15:09

Brilliant Suki. I love, a great little short story in verse well told of unrequited love.

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suki spangles

Sat 3rd Dec 2016 22:26

Cheers Colin! I think I'm way beyond being helped now!

<Deleted User> (13762)

Sat 3rd Dec 2016 09:12

brilliant - love it - but you need to seek help Suki.

I had a similar crush on my sat-nav woman - I'd tease her by turning left when she suggested right but she never got angry with me - we'd always end up in the same place eventually - which made her happy I guess - although she never showed it.

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