BFG

by phoolishdreamer

Stacks on stacks, stuff on stuff,
It piles up like marshmallow fluff.
TVs, games, movies and more.
Clothes on sale, socks galore.

I need this. I need that.
Probably need that feathered hat.
Kick a kid, punch a guy,
I shoved a woman just to get by.

Ring the register, swipe the card.
So simple to do. It’s not that hard.
Race to the car, pack it up tight.
On to the next store! It’s on my right!

Stand in line, voucher in hand,
I’ll sell it to you for a couple grand.
Make back my spendings in an hour or so,
So I can buy more and go, go, go!

Stopped at the exit by a mild-mannered cop.
“I’m going to need to you stop.”
“No way, José. It’s my American right!”
I yell in his face and start up a fight.

Punches land, blows follow.
Clocked in the ear. Now, I feel hollow.
Slammed to the ground, cuffs go on.
Into the squad car, and now I’m gone.

Started with everything, car full of goods,
From snowboard boots and golf woods.
Just four concrete walls, now, and a toilet bowl.
At least I hit my Black Friday goal.

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