Down the supermarket aisle
Comes a visage all a-smile.
She knows me it’s plain to see!
Who, I pray you, can she be?
Face is someone I should know,
And it’s clear she’s thinking so.
Now she’s moving past the bread.
There’s no place to hide ahead.
This is something I must face,
Full of anguish and disgrace.
Shakespeare never played this game.
The importance of a name
May to him have been of naught;
But he wasn’t ever caught
‘Tween the dog food and the soap
Feeling like a mindless dope.
Little Ashtray