Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Why I hate Ikea?

A poem from the heart ...

Why I hate Ikea?

Value for money
no doubt,
but, for the anxious
a tar pit.
aimlessly moving,
Ikea for them
is a day out
in prehistoric drudgery.
I'm hunting for
a pine chest of drawers
for my cub.
Visions of living in a box
send terror to my core.
Will my fossilised
remains be found in page
forty one or fifty two.
The forced long walk -
shopping designed to
take two hours.
Cheap stuff at the entrance
to prising your purse open.
The tempting
bite of a ten pence
meatball for lunch.
The quest to find
your item in the warehouse
with the knobs
neatly camouflaged in another row.
And exhausted,
the gatherer unsuccessfully
gets the item in the car.

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