Glass doors
open automatically
like a giant’s yawning maw
or a whale
designed to swallow
customers
programmed to spend
and autonomously navigate
guided by signs
each separate mind
segregated
but robotically inclined.

They stand in groups
or sit at formica tables
window shop
ride the escalators
enter the supermarket
cold as a winter’s night
stocked, stacked
and refrigerated
with dead meat
the remains of carcasses
attractively displayed
encased in plastic wraps.

Fruit and vegies
arranged in rows
like soldiers on parade
to be inspected and selected
or weaving away
like matadors
with expressionless faces
as ladies with babies
barge through like torpedoes
with prams or trolleys
to braying laughter
from a clown’s gaping maw.