The Sign of The Cross

Went to the green hardware store today, they were all pointin’ at my high hair and horn rimmed spectacles.
Gave me the feelin’ of parachuting out of a doomed plane,
making the sign of the cross.

“Holy Rabbi !” chimed the young girl with the hotdog water perfume. “He’s making sure he’s got the essentials.” replied another. “Spectacles,
testicles,
watch and wallet.”
When I heard this, it became my mantra representing that mental check list one does before discovering they have locked themselves out of the house.
Out the door,
somehow blamin’ God,
touching every pocket,
feelin’ for keys.

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Filed under creative writing, micro stories, Outlaw poetry, poetry

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