The devils

The devils

I’ve been saying it for weeks,
I swear I saw the supermarket staff in their corporate specifics
sticking needles into packets of pitta bread.

I’ve seen them drip piss on the floor of aisle 9
to keep the old people’s walking sticks
tiddly-wink jittering across the tiles.

I’ve seen them slick pop open olive jars,
speed suck off the flesh,
in the hope that at least one rich kid will find it and feel sick.

At the end of one shift,
they opened up the lorry port
and let fistfuls of plastic bags out like carrier pigeons.

None of them will return.
They know this,
so just to make sure they’re not alone they've added an extra line onto the receipt:

please call this number to ask any questions about our beautiful beautiful masterpiece.