Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing –
ought I to go back and fold those pants abandoned on the floor?
But the silence was unbroken and the clerk not once had spoken,
still I took this as a token and I asked then, “Macklemore?”
This I whispered, and his beat producer sampled it hardcore,
Back into that thrift shop turning, dollars in my pocket burning,
soon again I heard a rapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is just some youngster seeking practice;
"Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
"Let me save my hard-earned wages and this mystery explore; –
"Tis a passing car, no more.”
Open here I flung the window, and, with fur-clad arms akimbo,
leaning back as if at Limbo, entered emcee Macklemore;
not a beat or chorus paused he, not an observation caused he
to give aught of a response me, pushed aside toward the door,
shoved aside by swirling furs and fallen back against the floor! –
noticed not by Macklemore!