My Bagless Checkout Lament

The conveyor belt is moving like a judgment seat,

I’m smiling at the cashier, looking so discreet.

My organic greens are piling high, my artisan bread,

But there’s a vacuum of logic spinning in my head.

I reach for my pocket, I reach for my side,

There’s nowhere for my dignity to run and hide.

Where are my bags! (Oh, where are my bags?)

At the checkout line, my spirit sags!

A public fail, a plastic sin!

How did I let the chaos in!

Where are my bags! (I left them at home!)

Now in this supermarket, I stand alone!

(I stand alone!)

The lady in the line behind me has a smug-like face,

Her hemp-fiber totes are taking up my space.

I’m sweating through my shirt as they tally up the cost,

It’s not just twenty cents, it’s my soul that I have lost.

I could buy the new ones, hanging by the rack,

But I’d rather crawl into the produce and never come back!

The planet is weeping, the turtles all know,

That I am the reason the polar ice will go.

I’m staring at my shoes, I can’t meet his gaze,

Lost in the plastic-wrapped, polyethylene haze.

Where are my bags! (Oh, where are my bags?)

At the checkout line, my spirit sags!

A public fail, a plastic sin!

How did I let the chaos in!

Where are my bags! (I left them at home!)

Now in this supermarket, I stand alone!

(I stand alone!)

Into the paper... (where are my bags?)

Into the basket... (where are my bags?)

Such a heavy burden for a single human soul.

(They’re in the trunk... they were in the trunk...)