tellurian concentricities
parked near the Sprouse-Reitz
and venturing from sporting goods to
bric a brac
he swallowed his fear of used clothing
and pushed his way into
the air conditioned St.Vincent de Paul.
a cloud of ennui enveloped him
it smelled like an old record album
and was shaped like a plastic cover for
something unknown
he veered from the BOOKS section
careened into shoes
stumbled on framed artwork
banged his shin on furniture
lost his mind in wigs
luckily he could see his car through
the glass
he made for it and didn't look back.
he heard a voice as he started to insert the key
into the car door
"Archie?"