Supermicro thoughts
Pass through my mind
As I shop at the mega-mall.

For instance,
I am the Whisper sanitary napkin
Lying on the first rack
And living very close to a young girl
I absorb her juices.

Or I am a Huggies nappy pad on the second rack
And I am accumulating the excreta as I snuggle
Some infant
Who I look after tenderly
For five to six hours.

Or I am a high-priced toilet soap
Camay, Yardley or Lux International
And I am smothered by the folds
Of a really fat woman's thighs
To where I have slid

Or I am a fork and spoon
Which a forty-year-old Maharashtrian uses
To hog Maggie noodles

Or I am the TV
And an entire family is sitting in front of me
Looking at me, eating, surfing my channels
Or they have switched me off
And have left me alone in this room

Or I am a foot wipe
Which costs twelve bucks
Given free with a purchase
Of upholstery
Very good-looking
Yet my master coming out of the bathroom
Is wiping his wet feet on me

Or I am a broom
With which folks
Casually clean their floor
Or dust away cobwebs.
While using me
My mistress drops me
And dreams of a vacuum cleaner.
She spits on me
Even if I touch her husband's body
By mistake.

Or I am a Kit-Kat chocolate bar
And people are merrily munching me
And chomping me

Or I am a crumpled wrapper
Of Vita Marie biscuits
And I am waiting for some kind-hearted chap
To pick me up.

Or I am a dark yellow price tag
With 20% off written in jet black on its despairing label
Reading it these days
Doesn't lift up your spirits at all.