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Barcodes

by Anna Winkelmann

Cars               come and go in      a                  swirling river Of                  beeping horns        and              flashing lights Marilyn         pushes her              trolley          towards the window Towards        the checkout,          ignoring       offers of help from Youths          who think the          whole          world, and more, belongs to them It’s late,         and the queue       disappears     soon enough under The              withering eyes        of the             evening The               checkout lady        is no              more than twenty-five, Kids still       in university,       working       part-time to cover all the bills. She has        a vague,              nice smile      fixed on her face, even When         Marilyn               misplaces      her broccoli for the second time “My              husband                invented       those,” Marilyn        says, and the        checkout      lady’s eyes widen in surprise “Scanners?”   she says, and        Marilyn       replies “No. These. The barcodes,” And              places one               gnarled          finger on the barcode “Oh. I           didn’t know             that                someone had invented them,” “Well,          surely someone       must of.         People don’t talk about that kind of thing.       Not anymore,” George            came up                      with the           idea of a square. He                    perfected                    the idea:          Credit? None No one             ever knew                    about the        barcodes. It was me who told People             that, yes                      my                   husband invented the barcode They                would                          assume            we were rich, assume that I was                lying or just                 be kind            of shocked,” The                  checkout lady              looks at           Marilyn in a new kind of light The kind of      light that                      comes              from a scanner when it Recognizes      a barcode “Well,              I think they                  should,”

About this poem

A top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2020.

Anna Winkelmann

A top 15 winner of the Foyle Young Poets of the Year Award 2020.
Supported by Arts Council England

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