Thursday May 20th, 2010

The exercise:

On this, the 711th day in a row for this blog, it only seems appropriate to have a prompt of: the corner store.

For those of you outside of North America, 7-Eleven is our Kwik-E-Mart.

Mine:

Mister Anderson
Seemed to live
Behind the counter
Of our local corner store.

He never said hello,
Nor goodbye,
Nor much of anything
Now that I think of it.

But that didn't stop
Us kids from loving him
And spending our every penny
On his bright sugary treats.

I guess I just miss
Old Mister Anderson,
But not as much
As I miss my youth.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Ah, I encountered my first 7-11 in Canada this trip! I was... unimpressed, but then perhaps I'd gotten the wrong idea from popular culture :)

I like your poem, especially the last line.

The corner store

No soup, no shoes,
No bread, no tinned peas,
No mops, no candles; no matches, no cheese,
"Not today, please!"
I don't know what it sells,
And I don't want what it might,
But I love going in and asking for things,
Morning, noon, and night.

Marc said...

Don't worry, I'm unimpressed every time I'm unlucky enough to go in one too :)

Those last four lines totally make your poem. Love 'em.