yummy!

run!
leopord and zebra are
eating up the walls, the shelves, the mannequins
like greedy little attention-whores,
aching for your eyes.

strangely shaped and strikingly different
oozes off the mirrored roof's silver glare.
boom!
snap!
pow!
screams every article begging to be scantily clad
by the new generation of scenesters
or aspiring indie kids
with their "fuck convention!"s and their "fuck you!"s,
raving about how it's so hot!
revolutionary!
ahead of our time!
employing dirty immigrants and
condemning prop. 8!
just beginning the lists of reasons why liberalism is the new trend,
and this store is its anorexic model.

colored capes and glitzy leggings
and pocket skirts and oversized shirts
and a plain, simple,
lack of pants,
god forbid they be anything but skinny!
and of course,
don't forget the nipples,
bras are trashy, for heaven's sake.

but give me skin tight,
give me metallic,
give me too much leg,
fuck,
american apparel is GOD.