I jumped into the purchaser’s movement,
bought a new step stool every Tuesday.
Months passed like terrible dreams,
products arrived as prophets crawled across the ceiling.
The hundred-year flood converted roads to rivers
as they chuckled in thier sunlit room.
I invested in an infinity scarf,
nervous as the schism between hand and foot.
Running from several fires, I watched
the last bouquet of light fade behind me.