THE GALAPAGOS… thrift shop poetry


Mornin’…  more Thrift Shop Poetry

 

I visited the Galapagos Islands 

on aisle three with the twins, Dawn 

and Bobby B. They were headed that way 

I thought what the hell, I’ll join them.

They were pretty sure they had relatives

there cause they had that look about them

I’m mean… every one said they had that

resemblance.

 

No dispute from me, no way. There

was wisdom poised over the tank tops

and shorts.  I was determined to linger

and see what summer wear had to say.

A pair of plaid capris wiggled off the hanger

“Pick me please.”  Dawn and Bobby B

just stared right through me so I hung

them back up and reached for the blue

linen ones.  They clearly approved.

 

Not much into skimpy tank tops

Even tho’ Dawn gave a wink and a nod

for a tight black one with a hot pink

rhinestone butterfly across the bosom

I carted it to please her thinking $2.80

wasn’t too much to lose snatching the

tye dye multicolored one next to it 

for $1.61 to please myself just incase 

 

The Galapagos of shorts and tank tops

an island in a sea of winter’s end

infused the hope of summer fun

Bobby B and Dawn ever statuesque

solemn and weirdly  calm remained

to hold court in their mysterious way

waiting for a straw hat or visor to

tease another $3.72 out of you for their trip home

 

 

 

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