Store brand bland

I feel consumed by my difference
As rhinoceros with shopping carts
Whose ratty whispy tails
Serve no purpose
Tell Sally that her perm
Will make her feel less lonely

It’s the right thing to say I guess

Its 11am. I am 46.
I just realized I am a displaced dolphin
But for now the smirk in the cheap suit
Will sell me sodium and heartburn
So I can sadly watch my children

Assume my sameness

Somehow I feel saddened
For disliking everyone
Mostly though I
fear them and their advertising more than the tornados
Or the spiders

As they, wrapped in cotton pictures of animals, block the aisles and discuss their gods and decide my choices of toilet paper

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