In the
high desert thrift store
As the
afternoon sun beat down
Seeking a
respite in musty air conditioning
I peruse
the second-hand fare
It is the
usual stuff
Pots and
pans
Half broken
appliances
Scads of
polyester
And an
arsenal of defunct golf clubs
I’m really
just wasting time
Unwilling to
find myself external again
My shopping
companion agrees
We are loathe
to reclaim or positions
Atop a
couple of bicycles
In the
arid suburb of Palmdale
Where the
wind blows constantly
Always into
your face
No matter
which way you turn
A biking
nightmare
As I maintain
my wander
I am distracted
by a display
Clear plastic
bags are hung
Stuffed to
the gills
With colorful
swaths of fabric
Before long
I have one in hand
Only to
realize they are ties
Lots and
lots of ties
Smashed together
For the
measly asking price
Of one
solitary dollar
Irresistible
Now lest
you think me a fool
I did not
just grab and dash
I put on
an air of discernment
Perused and
prodded
Searching the
transparent containers
For evidence
of percentages of cool
Found two
bags of promise
Dropped my
two dollars down
And headed
out into the blast furnace
I could be
happy now
I had just
purchased distraction
At a
drastically discounted rate
Upon arriving
home I was giddy
Twittering
with anticipation
As to what
the orbs would reveal
I was not disappointed
Yes, there
was the typical attendees
Scads of
diagonal stripped ties
In blues,
reds and earth tones
Even a
square bottom knit
Left over
from the eighties
But then
the treasures arrived
An elegant
array of neckties
Prime examples
of exquisite Webleys
Fashionable
Don Lopers
And a few
unnamed gems
Of course
the Wembleys are best
The pinnacle
of innovation
Mixing the
finest polyesters
Into wearable
art
Invoking the
iridescent sheen
In accents
of acetate and rayon
Creating color
changing illusions
That catch
the eye
And excite
the mind
Such is
the prowess of a Wembley tie
Crush it, Knot it, even Wash it
The envy
of all who behold
The
bane of the plain black tie
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