you return the shirt
you bought just yesterday.
you tried it on
and stood in front of the mirror.
it's plaid.
green, reds, white.
it's thick, with black buttons.
you think lumberjack
when you look at it,
you are only missing an axe
and a wool hat,
a stout woman beside
you holding a bottle of syrup
and a possum by it's nap,
but you have the receipt
so you careful fold
it back into the wrapper,
place it into
the bag, take it back.
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