Trinket

by Julian P

On my last vacation, I stopped at a tourist trap trinket store.

I entered and saw my mistake, knowing that before I left, I’d be poor.

A cute little snail with googly eyes

and a novelty pen with ink that never dries.

Why, oh why did I enter that store?

But it didn’t stop there, oh no, there was more.

A set of glass swans with cartoonish faces

or a set of playing cards with two bonus aces.

Let it be known that I tried to resist.

But that devilish sales clerk pried open my fist.

He pushed, he prodded, he pillaged and purged

until my wallet and the register’s contents had merged.

A small beady bracelet with flower charms.

Even cute little kitten dolls that you want to protect from harm.

Why, oh why did I enter that store?

Because by the time I left, I found myself poor.