I spend my Sundays working,
Fifteen dollars an hour,
Half of my money goes to rent,
The rest to preliminary needs.
I try my best to be green,
I love the bees and the trees,
So, I eat less meat. In the aisles,

Produce and plastic teem,
The suffocating-shrink-wrapped carrots,
a dollar.
The ones that will degrade,
two dollars fifty.

I need more than a carrot,
So, I buy the one in the bag.
Bags pile up throughout my trip,
and they always rip,
but at least they’ll never leave.