In the supermarket of words

taste is relished with no price

at no cost.

The word shoplifting does not exist here.

Food is incessantly digested

with no caloric penalty

by a famished palette

which enunciates its

uninhibited appetite

word by word

syllable by syllable

one enticing sound at a time.

Baguettes are delicately uttered

with the croissants and

petit fours.

Free samples of

spiced guacamole and

red-hot salsa

are shaped generously

by daredevil lips

in aisle four.

Angry customers

display contorted

mouths of anguish

as they unmercifully

attack the liverwurst and

pimento loaf.

They watch the others

scramble through

the sleek enigma

of ravioli and linguine.

The excitement reaches

its peak at

the check out counter.

A marathon of

nourishment

awaits its verbalization.

Pumpernickel

granola

Monterey Jack

mingle freely with

legumes

poppycock

and fluffer nutter.

No wasteful packages

and piercingly squeaky steel carriages

here.

Only the feverish chatter

of the market.