In light of the horse meat scandal, Tesco’s latest poem, What Burgers Have Taught Us, has rocked the literary community.
Widely published, Tesco’s previous poems have included amusing two-liners, neat rhyming couplets, and even postmodern subversions of the written word, which play on the tensions within semantics and question the very meaning of meaning itself.
Their latest poetic piece is a topical apology, which in rhythmic ebbs and flows references the anxious back-and-forth between past mistakes and determined future changes.
The poem begins strongly with an admission of the ‘problem’ facing the author, with the alliterated ‘burgers and bolognese,’ touching momentarily, even flippantly, on the specific products, if only to dismiss them, along with some of Tesco’s own responsibility, in the fourth line: ‘It’s about the whole food industry.’
The repetition of ‘We’, even in its plurality, brings the emphasis back to Tesco personally: ‘We’ve been working on it,’ ‘we really do need’, ‘we need to’, while offering the poem a coherence in the theme of personal responsibility.
‘We know that our supply chain in too complicated’’ enacts this complexity in its awkward cadence, and provides a contrast with the impacting simplicity of: ‘So we’re making it simpler’.
The poem then moves through tenses past, present, and future in rolling lines that culminate in a promise, whose expression in the negative is a hinted admission of previous failures, previous ‘exceptions‘:
We’ve already made sure that all our beef is from the UK and Ireland.
And now we’re moving on to our fresh chickens.
By July, they’ll all be from UK farms too. No exceptions.
The poem ends with a series of avowals, tempered by the conditional:
We know that all this will only work if we are
open about what we do.
And if you’re not happy, tell us.
Seriously.
This is it.
We are changing.
The shortening lines draw our gaze to the author’s name below, tying the finality of ‘This is it’ and the significance of ‘changing’ to ‘Tesco.’


Thoughtful analysis.
Aren’t we always told to use two ‘yous’ to every ‘we’ or something? I haven’t counted, but the we:you ratio here looks like about 10:1, and there’s no ‘you’ or benefit in the headline.
The piece as a whole protests too much to people who aren’t really bothered. ‘Good origin’ fans are already paying a premium for organic beef. 12p-burger buyers are just looking for the product to be made from the animal indicated on the outside of the packet, if Tesco can manage it. They don’t need, and will not read, this sententious outpouring – and even if they try, they’ll probably bail out at ‘supply chain’.
I’ve never really liked setting prose all in single-sentence paragraphs; it fragments the bigger waves of the rhythm. Even worse is arbitrarily breaking the line with a tin ear for metre, e.g. ‘…only work if we are/open about what we do’. The gradually shortening lines embody weakness rather than strength, as does closing on an unstressed syllable.
Agreed, Tom. From a marketing point of view (rather than this tongue-in-cheek ‘poetic’ one), it reads like a somewhat lacklustre recap of general events, dilly-dallying across awkward line breaks with the few promises they have actually made lost in the verbiage.
Succinct writing would have gone a long way here, giving the same sentiments much more credence.