The reduced aisle at Tesco is proof that God loves you
A long shift calls you to the corner of the shop
like a moth under the fluorescent light wilting
plums are undressing themselves in front of you.
A deflated loaf of bread sweats out and gifts a floodgate
of luxury wine and you pair it
with a meat that looks like it was blessed to be killed twice.
The cakes have now toppled over congealed and resemble something
that has already gone through all the staff in the store.
The truth is you haven’t eaten for a week and
you must ignore the mould in these leftovers of
a fancier life you pretend you don’t want
but gifts you the chance of a full stomach tonight.
Here. Buy a fancy salmon sandwich. Go home.
OSHANTI AHMED is a Bengali poet by the way of South London. When she is not writing poems, she is reluctantly completing her English Literature and History undergrad at SOAS.