it's Tuesday morning
up the river
of years past
a grumpy clerk
stands behind
a check-out counter
no store
no aisles
no goods
no ceiling
just the clerk
in his white apron
and a counter.
He frowns down at me
his face as big
as a mustached full moon.
'Well?'
he threatens.
His eyes glint blue
behind his wire spectacles.
I choke and giggle
at the same time
and run fast as I can.
Maybe he'll still be there
tomorrow?
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