Right next door to the IGA on Main
Just a block north of the Village Square
In the sleepy hamlet of Homer
With the first whiff of winter in the air
The boy, not of school age quite yet
But Mom had some shopping to do
So she drags him unwillingly along
To this flannel and denim zoo
Once through the door they’re divided
Mom starts with the bins straight away
The boy heads deep into the sea of racks
Seeking somewhere fun to play
The store is practically empty
As mid-morning Mondays typically are
With Mom hunting bargains in the wild
The boy can escape to a jungle bizarre
From deep in his blind he can see them
Big cats prowling the dense landscape
Creeping stealthily from tree to tree
Blocking every avenue of escape
Leopards, jaguars and tigers stalk
Up and down rows and rows of retail prey
Pouncing on deals like wounded antelope
While the boy is tucked safely away
The boy hunkers down deeper yet
When suddenly a big frog comes into sight
With one big hop he’s upon the young boy
Giving him an unexpected fright
“Whatcha doing in there?” he softly croaks
As the mood shifts from fright to surprise
“There’s more to see beyond these racks.
Come join me and I’ll show you the whys.”
The boy crawls from his shielded retreat
As the jungle dream fades slowly to black
Frog gives the boy a mischievous wink
And invites him to join him out back
With a nod of approval from Mom
Still engaged deep in her retail quest
The two exit through swinging half doors
To a stockroom in the Wild West
There on the benches are tools of iron
Boxes and gear stacked impossibly high
Handing the boy a shiny silver price gun
Frog deputizes the boy on the fly
“The law of the land is clear,” he declared
“People need stuff and stuff we’ve got.
If you can’t find it here,” he continued,
“Then you certainly need it not.”
This newly minted gunslinger
Takes his duties with valor and poise
Killing time with Frog pricing goods
Down at the Homer Men and Boys
Mannino Acid 