The Supermarket Grand Prix (poem) by Michael D. Schafer on AuthorsDen

The Supermarket Grand Prix
by Michael D. Schafer → (All Poetry by Michael D. Schafer)
Wednesday, March 21, 2018 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Racing down the aisles. Carryout!
THE SUPERMARKET GRAND PRIX It was the Supermarket Grand Prix. The racers were ready to start. A race between fruits and vegetables, While dodging shopping carts. Everyone took their place, At the starting line. Fruits and vegetables side by side, Flashing the victory sign. When the green light came on, It was the fastest start of its kind. The bananas were the first to peel out, While the others were slipping close behind. Coming out of turn one, After being sideswiped by a yam, The strawberries hit the shelves, And found themselves in a jam. The carrots got all bunched up, Dodging carts on aisle four. The peas came apart in the pod, And went rolling across the floor. The apples were picked to win. They thought it was in the bag. But worm trouble forced them out. They never saw the checkered flag. Heading into the last lap, It was between the lettuce, oranges and corn. The lettuce was a head, And happily honking his horn. Unfortunately,the lettuce was losing leaves, And headed back to the pit. It was now between the oranges and corn, With both showing lots of grit. The oranges squeezed everything out of their engines, That they thought they could produce. But the corn went on to win by an ear, Those poor oranges just ran out of juice. Michael D. Schafer © March 14, 2018

Reviewed by Ed Matlack

Reviewed on March 25, 2018

You always make me smile, Mike, thanks, as there is so little to smile about sometimes...-e-

Reviewed by E Phillips

And the grand prize?...V8!

Reviewed by Jane Noponen Perinacci

Reviewed on March 24, 2018

That produce area is one I would have shielded myself from! LOL! Oh, this is a real good one, Michael!

Love ya!

Jane

Reviewed by Carol Ann Phelan

I was there. I truly was. I could see it all in motion, had to lift my feet a few times to avoid all the action.

A really fun write showing the uniqueness of your mind and pen!

With respect and smiles,

Carol Phelan Aebby

Reviewed by David Thompson

Michael, this one is another one of those only-Michael-could-create poems. I enjoyed the race from start to finish. But I need to ask you something, and I�m sure you�ll give me an honest answer, that is, to the best of your ability. I noticed while reading your poem there was no mention whatsoever about the beets not participating in this year�s Supermarket Grand Prix. Just between you and me, I received word directly through the bean vine that the beets didn�t participate from being scared they�d get beat. You know yourself, nothing looks worse than a beat beet running around with a purplish-green sprout sticking out of its brain. Wonder why their sprout isn�t beet red? Beats me, too, Michael. You take care, now. No, I haven�t flipped. Just having a little fun. At my age there isn�t much to do during these long winter months except sit around and try to remember what life was like when all I had to do was sit and wait for the annual Supermarket Grand Prix.

David

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on March 23, 2018

Haven't read anything like this since listening to Spike Jones.

Corn certainly had the upper hand,
when squeezed into a juice.
With moonshine alcohol fuel,
corn put to powerful use.

Ron

Reviewed by John Domino

Reviewed on March 21, 2018

I loved it, even though this poem had a mighty corny ending. But, was it a fair race? After all, they had the advantage with that super slick corn oil that they produce! Va-room! LOL

John Michael

Reviewed by Susanne Leist

I bet the inspiration for this poem came from a produce fight you had at the market. I can see you throwing vegetables and fruits. At least in your imagination.

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton

You are magnificent, Michael. Only way to put it.

Reviewed by John Herlihy

Saw those vegetables doing their thing and loved every minute of it. What a race !