The afternoon Lizzy came back
From the Steampunk convention to work her shift—
Instead of changing clothes
She thought it’d be fun to cashier that night
In green lensed goggles
And a little black top hat with a copper clock
Whose moving gears made her seem,
As she stood there behind the register, laughing
With the customers while punching keys,
And pointing at the screen, less like a head cashier
And more like the maniacal
Money grabbing captain of a retail dirigible.
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