Sale Fever (Poetry)

Economics, as a subject, was anathema to me
in fact, all things financial seemed a drag —
what use had I for saving the small salary I earned
when spending it was so much more my bag.

The untold joys of shopping — trawling through the bargain rails —
the hunter’s pride at bringing home the kill —
the bulging plastic carriers, the maxed-up credit card —
the follies of those trips are with me still.

Each month brings down the balance but the interest is so high
those bargains weren’t the good deals I had thought —
I’m paying three times over for the shoes I’ve still not worn
and the too-tight dress I never should have bought.

My wardrobe’s overflowing with these ‘end of season’ lines
their price tags dangle, boasting prices slashed —
but there’s little joy in knowing now I should have shown restraint
when times are tight and I could use the cash.

The measure of a bargain is a hard thing to define —
but, sure as eggs, whatever the amount
that sale offer in the window turns to false economy
once the debit hits the credit card account.