Brown-red floors and piles of clothes
to either side, the 1990 Michael Bolton X-large T-shirt
Not for sale.
Beside the velvet embroidered Elvis and Jesus tapestries
The racks of jackets and button downs and ties and
Forties-era suit-coats he kept trying to get 19 year olds
“yeah, you don’t want anyofthisnewfangled hipster
Bullshit Madison avenue crap getsomethinwithclasss”
After he left town—some said England
Some San Francisco, some New York
And some said he never really left at all
just found an alley doorway and never came out-
The space was turned to a hiking and recreation
Supply store with tasteful cartoons of mountains
On its rounded side.
One time while I was looking for old t-shirts
Or something or other, Jimmy looked around quick
And said “yeah, you’reagoodboy. Watch the store while
I go get a sandwich.”
That day I found a pair of boots for twelve dollars
A couple of cowboy shirts and a dusty green jacket.
Best damn shirt, boots and jacket I ever bought.