Endless aisles. Scary shiny floor. Grotesque baby dolls
stacked to the bug smeared ceiling.
With a push of a button the dolls bawl for affirmation.
The house talent, a former peep show starlet named Meridia,
tantalizes seekers on the intercom.
“Buy one bag of taco nuggets, get one free. Looking for
something snazzy to wear to the barbecue?
Zebra stripe Spandex ho dresses on clearance
in Wild Woman World, to the left of Teen Tart Turf,
directly behind Forlorn Fat Ass Camouflage.”

Free fucking samples!
Sliced kiwi and brie on Wheat Squares.
A sincere non-denominational Christian counselor
stands in front of the razors singing Queen’s
“Don’t Try Suicide” on a marked down karaoke machine.

The best things in Treasure Mart are hard to find.
Raspberry flavored anal lube, a magical elixir
guaranteed to stave off ennui,
cluttered on the wrong shelf
with Baby Einstein teething toys
and small press poetry books
left by mischievous elves high on
energy drinks and Sharpies.
Issues of Big Natural Tits in disarray.
No cameras and the employees are all hungover.
An inept pirate’s
paradise.

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