In The Used Clothes Shop

16 THE MINNESOTA REVIEW SUSAN FROMBERG SCHAEFFER IN THE USED CLOTHES SHOP No stealing here, I tell you. The hooks so high up, It takes a stick to float them And roughly have they been pushed aside To show die treasure, The leather bag. Luggage. In the picture, It is the only gleaming thing, And it seems painted with gold. Three people stand in the shop. The proprietress in her fancy dress Scored with velvet, Along white apron, A hand dug into a hip bone; She has parted her hair In the middle To show as much of her skull As life will allow. The rest is skewered into a rat. Why is the lady with the small boy Smiling at her, diis gargoyle? She holds a brown paper bag to her, And her features have softened Like a melon left too long. What a treasure that bag must be! SCHAEFFER 17 She holds it over her stomach like an unborn baby. And the little boy. Why are children out of focus, always? They are moving perpetually, Whirling into position Of one of those ladies, Or one of those dresses or jackets Skewered on hooks, Used up, At a touch, exhaling dust, Their arms stirring, use me, We are better than this woman says Who looks at this child as if to say A sad looking suit, that, I wouldn't give a cent, And he is better, Though under her gaze He moves And his face blurs As if melted or smashed. ...