I have been out of sorts
For quite some time now
If they were something I could buy
I would simply place an industrial sized box
Right there in my cart,
In a proprietary way
And steadily push them to checkout
Whereupon my sorts would be fully restored
I would make sure I had plenty for backup
Because when you’re out
Well
It’s quite an inconvenience to acquire them again
But one cannot buy sorts
~Amazon doesn’t even sell them~
And no one can loan you theirs until yours reappear
And you can’t even rent them
Sorts must be carefully tended
And treated with respect
(maybe even assertively)
Because sorts appreciate directness
You have to establish expectations
Such as
Do not cry in front of all these strangers
Straighten your back and look pleasant
Act like you’ve met the Queen loads of times before
Sorts are no-nonsense
They’re really not much fun at all
Now that I think about it
But they do make me believe my clothes look passable
And help me remember why I got up
And how to carry on a conversation without drifting
Oh, and how I should eat more than just crackers and an apple
Sorts are great for all that
But while I wait for my sorts to replenish themselves
Like red blood cells
I’ll just pet my dog
And try to concentrate on what you’re saying
And laugh when everybody else does
And smile with my eyes
And read more than five pages a day
And try not to remember
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