Quoth the Target

Twas upon a weekday weary

When I heard my belov’d wife query

“Hey are you going to the store?”

I withdrew in depths of terror

Despite my wife never looking fairer

And mumbled “Uh I hadn’t planned on it before”

Her voice a sad and plaintive mumble

Words came out aflutter, a-tumble

She sigh’d “We don’t have Tide pods anymore”

Curses! Our clothes tangled and not fresh smelling

I must take action to stop the yelling

I now must go, go to the store

An idea on my brow alighted

And to my phone, now delighted

I thought “I will arrange pickup at the store”

Upon the Target app my fingers dancing

Then in the car slowly advancing

I drove myself and child to the Target store

There behind the counter waiting

Young Tyler, who’d rather be skating

When my twisted visage crossed the door

We must wait! Into his lair Tyler vanished

The pain that visited my mind now banished

“Do you have the bar code?” Tyler, no more!

I staggered from the Target heaving

In my revelry now quite believing

I had completed my transaction at the store

And now you, Target, trouble my email

With your “Did it succeed or we fail?”

Target, I shall not give you a score!

Our business is done, I have nothing to say

I beg of you to go along your way

I shall never give you a score!