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On Your Way to Myra

a portly man
fat
not of any sort of excess
but more due to general
disrepair
enters a small thrift store

smells like the great aunts and great uncles
you never see anymore
and that bothers you
but it doesn’t bother him

he sees them whenever he likes

in the mirror
in his inbox
in his own folklore

the beard started as sadness
but ended up a victory lap
a trademark

he buys the long red coat
the one with the torn collar
and the white fringe

He pays for this one in cash.
Posted 11/19/14
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