Your logo in yellow
reads like home to me.
Past your rotating doors
await a million things
I never knew I wanted.
You often have surprises
though I study your catalogue
with religious fervor often;
Each verse an invitation for a purchase —
Tirup:55:9 reads Buy me, while
Billy:77:7 is Perfect for that corner!
I enter with a plan, a short list, an intention
But you disarm me in a matter of seconds.
Of course, this could be my kitchen,
Yes, of course, I want this as my living room.
I test the pillows, I stretch;
The room is suddenly my own
until a passerby enters uninvited.
The audacity! The violation!
I scribble notes with my midget pencil
I write down codes, aisles and colors
and move along.
By the time I reach the register
my mouth is dry but my heart is eager.
I foot an inflated bill and head for the exit
carrying a dismembered version of LivingRoom:29.