the voice you
hear, no, not
the little voice
in your head,
saying run,
forrest run,
but the bigger
voice, the one
booming over
the P.A. system
saying that there
is a special going
on at the moment
for twenty pound
bags of marshmallow
circus peanuts
and spandex pants
in aisle six,
makes you head for
the doors, flying
past the geriatric
greeter in a red
smock causing his
toupee to spin,
leaving without
your AA
batteries, snow
tires and carton
of twinkies. what
were you thinking?
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