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Dreaming beans

Updated: Jan 30




There I was, standing in the supermarket

gazing at the shelf of baked beans,

their cans in ranks like soldiers,

each label a bright biography,


when a cart trundled past, echoing

a thousand buying tales it had heard,

its wheels wobbling out another shopping story

down aisles of mundane miracles.


Around me stretched a maze of shelves

like chapters in a novel of choices,

a narrative of flavours ready to unfold

in the kitchens of the ordinary.


I picked up a bean can,

metal cool against my palm,

and wondered about the beans within,

trapped in their tiny, tinny universe.


Do they dream of the fields

where sun once kissed their tender pods?

Or are they resigned to their fate

as captives in a world of tomato sauce?


The checkout lanes beckoned,

a trundle of conveyor belts,

on which my beans are swept towards freedom

like refugees seeking the safety of a new life.


Then I left, carrying my bag of stories.

The automatic doors sighed shut behind me and

I loaded my groceries into the back of the car.

The world resumed its mundane plod.


As I drove off I saw, “Save! Budget! Bargain!

in the rear-view mirror, blazoned over

a cathedral of commerce, where miracles unfold,

and baked beans dream.


41 views3 comments

3 Kommentare


Unknown member
23. Jan.

I particularly like the tiny, tinny universe. Made me think of old DC comics with The Atom

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A simple bean is the pulse of poetry. Beautifully written.

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Nigel Smith
Nigel Smith
23. Jan.

Excellent Alistair, 'Magical thinking' a term I use for that mental state where you're so receptive to all around creativity is high. Some great lines,


'when a cart trundled past, echoing


a thousand buying tales it had heard,


its wheels wobbling out another shopping story


down aisles of mundane miracles.'


all with a veneer of cynicism, which prompts thought.

Thank you!

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