If I Were a Poet

I hate Costco.
Why should I have to be ignored
at the customer service counter,
when I could just call my mother?

But here we all are on a Saturday,
One nation under Kirkland.
It’s like an episode of a reality show,
only without the tarantulas.
But if there were tarantulas,
I’m sure they’d come in convenient six packs.

I came here to buy some maple-flavored instant oatmeal.
They didn’t have any, so instead I bought ten pounds of
another kind of oatmeal that I don’t even like.
I also bought some books in French (I don’t speak French),
a bag of cat food (I don’t have a cat),
and twenty clips which might be useful for… I don’t know… clipping things?

Standing in the checkout line,
I wanted to smack the fat lady for yelling
at her son,
But then, looking in her eyes, I saw how she also missed her mother.