KostKoLandious...

I met a shopper from an American land

who said, one vast membership club

is right off the interstate. Strewn about its lot

countless carts & hoarder-scooters are on hand

Near them in the store, half drunk, a vested greeter cries

whose bloated waist, gaping mouth, and useless hands

tell that well upon these products fed

whose nutritional facts remain, stamped on these sordid things

the 100 gallon ice cream drum, & the rucksack of insulin

to keep them from dropping dead

And on the labels, these words appear

"The manufacturer assumes no liability,

for any diseases derived from things in here.

Our prices for these things are more than fair."

No produce section remains, 'round the decay

of this KostKo. mess. Lost in vacant stares,

the lines from listless checkers stretch far away...