BLACK FRIDAY - Poem
BLACK FRIDAY
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(Copyright 2022, by Dave Kiffer)
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I am slick in the Red Serge,
Taller in my Stetson,
Striding in my Strathconas,
Brass buttons blinding all,
My head proudly propped
by the starched tunic collar,
My tummy tucked
By a Sam Browne.
.
Which is odd, because
I am neither a Mountie
Or a Canadian.
But there you have it.
Mom would have been proud
She always loved the Mounties
And their Red Serge
And puffy breeches
With the yellow stripes.
.
I am also in a Walmart
But not the local one
Where they would
Have been surprised
By my Mountie kit.
It is Black Friday
But it must be Canada
Because the shoppers
Are not fighting.
.
I am not shopping.
I am trying to avoid two
Mountie Constables
Who are obviously looking
For something in the store
Although I am not sure
It is me. I assume that if
They see me, I must salute.
I am afraid I will do it wrong.
.
So, I dart around people
Thronging the bait and switch sales
And the dream goes on and on
An endless loop like the music
In the perfume aisle of a nicer store
Than Walmart. Until, of course,
The REM finally dissipates
And I wake, vowing never again
To eat Canadian bacon, before bed.
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